Unbroken Fellowship
by me 4evaful
Summary: Boromir abruptly departs the Fellowship at Amon Hen, and the Fellowship leave before the Uruk-Hai attack - unbroken. The arrival of Gollum sows the seeds of discord, turning the Fellowship against each other, and not all will come out alive. With so much tension between its members, how long will it be before the Fellowship cracks? AU
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: All recognisable characters & locations are property of their respective owners.

Chapter 1

Boromir stretched out his hand towards Frodo, a glimmer of madness in his eyes. For a split second, Frodo saw the deep green irises turn to bright red, as though Sauron was seeing through his eyes.

"Boromir, you don't know what you are saying!" Frodo said, staring wide-eyed at the man.

"I only ask for_ help!_" Boromir yelled. "I ask for help for my people, aid to fight the forces of Sauron! That is what you want too, is it not?"

"I want to destroy the Ring, not _use_ it!"

"And I seek to destroy Sauron! Why not use the Ring to do so? It is far safer, far more sensible, than wandering blindly into the Black Land, where you have far more chance of delivering it straight back to Sauron than ever reaching Mount Doom alive bearing it! To take it there is to throw it away, to give it back to Sauron, and then, what chance do we have? What chance do any of us have?"

"If you took the Ring, you would seek to destroy Sauron with a power created by Sauron, which has allegiance to _Sauron!_" Frodo shot back. "The Ring would turn on you, and destroy you first. No, this is the only way."

"What, because a bunch of elves said so?" Boromir's face was deranged, he looked like a wild wolf, rabid and starved. "And yet they would forbid anyone doing anything else! This quest is folly! We have already lost Gandalf, how many more lives need to be wasted before you see the truth?"

"Boromir, you are not yourself!" Frodo started to walk back.

"Frodo, _give me the Ring!_"

Boromir made to lunge at Frodo when suddenly–

"BOROMIR!"

Frodo breathed a sigh of relief as Aragorn came striding up the hill.

"What on _earth_ is going on?" Aragorn snarled, as he faced them, his eyes flashing dangerously as he glared at Boromir.

Frodo stared at the man who he had just witnessed fall from grace to insanity. It was only then that he realised how much he was shaking. He hadn't seen the man who had defended him so readily in Moria, he had seen Sauron take that soul, and twist it into something evil.

"Frodo, go back to the camp," Aragorn said calmly. "I wish to have a word alone with Boromir."

Frodo all but fled the scene, but he didn't reach the camp. He collapsed on the ground, and sat there shaking until dusk.

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?" snapped Aragorn. "What did you just try to do?"

"All I desire is enough strength to save my city!" Boromir retorted, his tone much the same as Aragorn's. "Is that really so much to ask?"

"Boromir, you just tried to take the Ring from Frodo! Do you have any idea about the _damage_ that could have been caused had you succeeded?"

"You would so readily abandon your own city to a fate of destruction? Gondor will fall without the Ring!"

"And it would fall sooner with it!" Aragorn yelled.

"Middle Earth will be destroyed if you carry on with this quest!" Boromir changed tack. "Sauron will reclaim the Ring before you get within a hundred leagues of the Black Gate! How do you propose to enter Mordor undetected?"

"I-"

"You know what? I've had enough of this! I will not travel with a band of idiots any longer, who are on some foolhardy mission that can only end in disaster, none of whom will listen to reason! I will return to my own land, and when Sauron has the Ring on his finger once more, I will be the first to say 'I told you so.' You will never be a true leader of men, if you cannot lead a group of seven willing followers down a path of sense, choosing instead the way of _insanity!_"

With that, Boromir turned on his heel and walked into the forest. Aragorn stared after him, understanding fully the gravity of the situation. The Ring had corrupted the heart of a good man, and now that it had a hold, it would be a long time before it let go. One thing was certain: they had not heard the last of this.

He stood there until twilight shone above him, staring in the direction that Boromir had gone. When he noticed that the forest around him had darkened, he turned back towards the camp.

He reached the bank to find Gimli smoking, Legolas glaring at the dwarf, Sam cooking dinner, and Merry and Pippin staring at the food longingly.

"Boromir has decided to leave us," he said tersely as he threw himself onto the ground.

"And Frodo?" Gimli said, taking his pipe out of his mouth.

"What do you mean, Frodo?" Aragorn said, glancing around.

"Do you see Frodo amongst us?" Legolas asked.

"I thought he was with you..."

"We thought he was with _you_," Merry said.

Panic began to rise amongst the camp.

"Well there's no point arguing about who we thought he was with," Sam said, taking his eyes off the sausages. "The big question is: where has he been all this time?"

"Walking," came a voice, and Frodo entered the camp. The tension was suddenly released. "And my heart speaks clearly now. I wish to go to Mordor."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Why do I get the feeling we're going in circles?" Merry asked.

Aragorn gritted his teeth, trying so hard not to take out the frustration that had built up over the past two days out on the hobbit. They were currently trying to navigate their way through Emin Muil, which they had been trying unsuccessfully to do since Boromir had departed, and, given that the product of yesterday night was to spend the entire time walking around in the rain, only to end up back at their camp accidentally at dawn, everyone was beginning to get rather sick of this.

They had slept through the day, and now, under the light of the sickle moon partially obscured by the clouds, (in other words, almost complete darkness,) they now tried again.

"Would it help if I climbed onto one of the rocks and see if I could find a way out?" Legolas offered again.

"No," Gimli said snappily. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: you do not need to show off your incredible sight to everyone you meet. Nobody wants to travel with an ostentatious idiot."

"All I want is to get out of here," Pippin muttered gloomily.

"Excuse me," Legolas spluttered indignantly. "I am _not_ an ostentatious idiot! I'm a..."

_And so the argument starts again..._ Aragorn thought irritably.

Just listening to the elf and the dwarf whining and arguing constantly, added to the incredibly irritating hum in his head caused by the headache he had developed, was enough to drive anyone insane.

Aragorn suddenly lost his temper.

"_Will the pair of you just shut up!_" Aragorn screamed abruptly at the arguing elf and dwarf. "Please! I can't think with you two constantly _bickering_ in the background! And trust me, I need to think in order to find a way out of this _infuriating pile of rocks!_"

He kicked one of the offending items, hoping to vent some of his frustration. In fact, all that happened was that he now had an excruciating pain in his toe, and started hopping to one side, clutching his foot in agony, while the rock didn't even have the decency to move. It just sat there arrogantly, and, if he hadn't known better, he could have sworn that it was laughing at him.

"Did that help?" Merry asked, completely oblivious to the danger of the wrath he was about to unleash upon himself.

"_Of course it didn't, do you suddenly see a miraculous path appear out of nowhere that's going to take us out of here?_" yelled the irate ranger, still clutching his toe while the fellowship looked at him, mostly in surprise, but Legolas had an amused look upon his face as he determinedly tried to conceal a smile. Aragorn sat down on a rock, (not the one he kicked,) his arms folded, resembling a five year old who had just had a tantrum. He then glared at the rock that he _had_ kicked, as though it had committed a grievous wrong against him.

"Forget I asked..." Merry said, holding up his hands defensively.

"What we need to do is find a way out of this place," Frodo said, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice at Aragorn's hysterics. "Have we tried that way yet?" He pointed down a path towards the left, if 'path' it could be called.

Aragorn shook his head, irritated beyond belief that he's failed to spot it before.

"Right, well let's go that way," Frodo said, leading the way down the path.

Everyone else started to walk down the 'path,' but Aragorn, whose toe had been broken, couldn't quite get to his feet due to the excruciating pain every time he tried to put weight on it.

A soft, melodious laugh sounded from behind him.

"Need a hand?" Legolas asked.

Aragorn grudgingly allowed Legolas to help him up.

"Thank you, but I can walk perfectly fine," Aragorn said grumpily.

"I'll believe that when I see it," Legolas laughed lightly. Aragorn merely scowled at him, until the laugh dissolved into a smile.

"All right," the elf said. "Walk three steps without my help and without falling over, and you can walk the rest of the way. Go on."

Aragorn smiled confidently and took one step. An unbearable agony flared inside his toe and he yelled out in pain, causing several of the fellowship to turn around in alarm. He nearly fell had it not been for the arms that wrapped themselves around him. When his yelling subsided, the laughter of the elf seemed to rise up, and Aragorn felt less than entirely confident as the lithe figure holding him shook with mirth.

"You don't stop laughing, you die," Aragorn threatened, which merely triggered a fresh wave of laughs from the elf, who now had the backing track of the rest of the fellowship.

"I die, you sit on a rock until your toe heals or one of the fellowship grows a few feet and becomes tall enough to carry you," Legolas countered. Aragorn didn't think it was possible for the elf to look more smug.

"Hey!" Gimli snapped.

"Gimli, stature isn't necessarily an advantage for a warrior," Legolas said calmly. "In battle, you could run around and kill your opponents and you're so short that nobody knows what has hit them until they're lying on the floor dead, about level with your head at that point." The infuriating smugness that coloured his features intensified.

_And yet_, Aragorn thought, _somehow he managed it._

"You-" Gimli began.

"Shh!" snapped Frodo, who had suddenly tensed. He had heard it, a light, pattering footstep.

"But-" the dwarf began to protest, but he was cut off by Aragorn.

"Shut – up – Gimli!" he hissed, before turning to Frodo. "What is it?"

And then Aragorn heard it. While everything else was still, he heard the soft sound of footsteps coming from above them...

Aragorn suddenly felt the arm around him vanish, he collapsed onto his injured foot and ended up on the floor, while Legolas spun away from him, drawing his bow and fitting an arrow into it faster than mortal eyes could track. The arrow sailed into the air and hit...

There was a squeal and suddenly a creature fell down, landing on the floor amongst the fellowship with a thud. It was a truly pitiful creature, and the hobbits and the dwarf gazed upon Gollum properly for the first time in their lives.

Legolas' arrow had hit the creature's ankle. When the tip had collided with the bone, Gollum had jumped, tried to grab the cliff but failed, and was now on the floor whimpering.

Aragorn hauled himself up onto a rock. "I have to say, Legolas, as supports go, you're not all that great..."

Legolas didn't reply to him, his eyes fixed on Gollum. He changed his bow for one of his knives and, without so much as a word to the others, walked up to the creature, and pressed the blade against Gollum's throat.

"NO!" Frodo yelled, rushing forwards and wrenching the knife from his grasp. "Don't kill him! Not yet!"

Legolas looked completely outraged. "I have no intention of letting this piece of filth live any longer than it has to!" he snapped, taking the knife back.

Frodo leapt between the whimpering Gollum and the elf, who seemed to have a much darker side, seldom revealed to anyone else.

"Stand aside, Frodo," Legolas snarled.

"No! I will not let you kill him!"

"I said, _stand aside!_"

"NO!"

"Do you not understand the danger of letting this creature live?" Legolas hissed, as he glared down at the hobbit. "Do you not understand what he would do given the chance?

"Be that as it may, I will not let you kill him!" Frodo repeated. "What has he done so wrong?"

"Frodo," Legolas said angrily, and the entire fellowship could see that his patience was wearing thin. "This creature is responsible for the death of my little brother! If you think that I would let him live then you are sadly mistaken-"

"Legolas, for all our sakes, calm down!" Aragorn finally intervened. "I don't care what personal wrong this creature has done to you but for the love of all things good, just please _shut up!_"

Legolas reluctantly backed off, casting a scathing glance at Gollum. He sat down fuming on a rock as far away as possible from the creature without actually leaving Aragorn's sight.

"So we know Legolas' opinion," Sam tried to brush off the elf's outburst, but in truth it had shaken him like everyone else. "But it's clear that killing Gollum may be acting hastily. What do we do with him?"

Aragorn rubbed his forehead, his headache reaching a peak. "I don't know, Sam, but for now shall we tie him up and we can decide what to do in the morning?"

There was a soft _huff_ from Legolas, but he seemed to be the only person to object to this. Aragorn, relieved, suggested that they make camp around the corner, where an overhanging outcrop would shield them from unfriendly eyes. Of course, Gollum's screams as Aragorn removed the arrow from his ankle and general outrage as a rope was fastened around its neck was enough to attract any unfriendly ears between them and Mordor.

* * *

That morning, Aragorn's headache had mercifully vanished, and the pain in his toe, (which Gimli had threatened to amputate had Aragorn not tried to heal it,) had subsided to a dull ache.

"Right, I fear that we have to decide what to do with this wretched creature," he said to the fellowship at large.

"I say we kill him, and if you had any sense, you'd listen to me!" Legolas snapped.

"Yes, we know that, _elf_," Gimli said shortly, voicing what the rest of the fellowship was thinking.

"We can't let him go," Frodo said, staring down piteously at the creature. "But I do not have the heart to kill him. He seems so... fragile..."

Legolas tutted impatiently.

"I don't care _what _we do with him, but I just don't want to spend another day in this place," Pippin said angrily. "It just seems so... lifeless..."

"We can show you the way out," Gollum suddenly piped up. "Yesss... we knows the way!"

Legolas glanced disdainfully down at him. "And you would throttle us as soon as that rope was removed from your neck."

"Legolas!" snapped Aragorn. He, like everyone else, was beginning to get ridiculously sick of Legolas' new side to his character. Aragorn then turned to Gollum. "Would you?"

"Yesss, precious, we would..."

Aragorn stared into the eyes of the pitiful creature. "What oath would you make?"

"We... We would swear... to serve the master of the precious..." Gollum's eyes flitted to Frodo.

Sam glanced at his master, at Gollum, then Aragorn, and lastly to Legolas. Aragorn knelt down in front of the creature.

"Then swear it by that that you hold most dear."

Sam saw Legolas' face harden with disbelief.

"We swear to serve the master... we swear by... by the precious!"

Aragorn's hands tightened around the rope that hung from Gollum's neck. He slowly removed it.

"Aragorn, you cannot seriously be thinking of trusting him!" Legolas hissed.

Aragorn ignored his friend, folding the rope up. "Take us out of here. Then we will decide your fate."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Boromir trudged in the pouring rain. The evening had probably given Middle Earth one of the most spectacular sunsets in a long time, yet unfortunately he hadn't been able to see it due to the large blanket of cloud hanging over him that barely distinguished between day and night. And so, when that cloud had decided that it was sufficiently satisfied it had ruined his evening enough, it then decided to open on top of him, soaking him to the skin and putting him in an even worse mood than before, if such a thing was possible.

In truth, the man wasn't really angry at the weather, or at least, he hadn't been until he had decided to take his anger out on it and, by way of an apology, decided to evolve into a storm. Weather aside, Boromir was absolutely furious at the Fellowship. The two young hobbits, so naive, constantly unaware of the dangers around them and behaving with enough indiscretion to attract all the enemies between the Lonely Mountain and the mouth of the Anduin. Sam, constantly suspicious of everything around him and never fully trusting his honour. Gimli, a dwarf who had successfully wrecked his sleeping pattern with his snoring loud enough to wake the trolls that Gandalf had supposedly turned to stone, not to mention the constant fights he seemed to get into with a ridiculously proud elf, whose aloof demeanour was only marred by the fact that he followed Aragorn around like a puppy. The Ring-bearer, who was so trusting of some who would lead him to his death and so wary of those who speak common sense, a trait which most (him included) would call idiocy. And Aragorn, perhaps the worst of them all. The ranger, a failed leader, a broken king. How could a man like that _ever_ lead a world of men when he couldn't even successfully lead a band of seven willing followers? No, make that six. He would _never_ allow himself to be ruled by that man ever again.

And yet if he was honest with himself, the person he was most angry with was staring back at him from that puddle. The most self-righteous part of him was disappointed at himself – he had let everyone down. His father, his brother, his _city_... But the most honest part of himself was ashamed. He cringed inwardly as he thought back to how he had tried to take the Ring. He wanted to kick himself as he thought of the visible fear in Frodo's eyes. He wanted to run for the hills as he thought back to his conversation with Aragorn. He was weak. He had succumbed to the power of the Ring, and it had driven him away from Gondor's only salvation. He wanted nothing more than the Fellowship's forgiveness, and it was only pride that stopped him running back and grovelling for it.

Suddenly he heard a noise. Spinning around, he saw, far enough off that it hadn't noticed him, but close enough to him to cause discomfort, a lone orc scout. But... But it couldn't be an orc. Orcs were a lot smaller than that.

And then he saw it. Emblazoned on his shield was a white hand.

_Saruman._

He tensed, and planned to sneak stealthily away. Only, he had never been very stealthy. He preferred to go charging into a battle than to slip away like a thief in the night. But he knew that if there was a scout this far from Isengard, then there was bound to be a whole company nearby. Saruman wasn't stupid, and nor was he. Pride had to take a back seat to his survival instinct, and he began to slip away, when a strong hand gripped him on his shoulder.

* * *

Frodo kept as close to the grey cloak hanging from Aragorn's shoulders as possible. Aragorn followed Gollum, Frodo followed Aragorn, Sam walked beside him, Gimli behind them both, Merry and Pippin behind Gimli, and, bringing up the rear with what were clearly whispered curses in his own tongue, came Legolas.

They rounded a corner and, clambering over a few rocks, they found themselves thankfully out of Emin Muil. The sight that lay before them, however, was so breathtaking that even Legolas stopped his muttering.

Before them lay sprawled a huge plain, patches of water dotted around it. The water caught the light, shining like mirrors. Beyond the plain was a wall of black mountains, and a red glow seemed to illuminate the bottom of the grey clouds hanging over the land beyond them.

"Right," Aragorn said, sparking the Fellowship out of their reverie. "We've escaped Emin Muil, and now I fear we have to decide the fate of our guide."

"We should-" Legolas began.

"Yes, we know, you want to kill him as revenge for your brother," Aragorn cut across Legolas.

"He led us this far," Frodo said. "I think we should trust him."

"And I think that anyone who does is insane," Legolas stated bluntly, not one to give up. "But of course none of you listen to me, even though I've had far more experience dealing with this creature than any of you-"

"Legolas, will you shut up?" Gimli snapped. "You are really beginning to get on my nerves, along with everyone else's! I'm sick of it, Aragorn's sick of it, Frodo's sick of it, so for all our sakes, _stop it!_"

Legolas' glare could have set Gimli's beard alight if the dwarf was the sole reason for his ire.

"Fine," he snapped coolly, though nobody could deny that they saw just how angry Legolas was. "It's clear that you will not listen to reason, so I might as well not bother trying to make you. And so when you wake up with that creature's fingers around your neck, don't say I didn't warn you."

He turned and walked away from the group, resting on one of the rocks that made up the labyrinth that they had just left. Gimli longed to go after him, to throw a retort at his childish behaviour, but Aragorn laid a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, merely offering his friend a burning glare.

"Now let me reiterate: what shall we do with him?" Aragorn asked.

"He's proven himself to be trustworthy so far..." Frodo said, looking down at him. "Maybe he will do so again."

He and Aragorn glanced over at Legolas, who they knew was listening, but Legolas remained silent for the first time since Gollum's capture. He was staring furiously at the stone in front of him.

"Mr Frodo," Sam said tentatively. "For what it's worth, I think... I think Mr Legolas is right."

Everyone faced him, surprised. Even Legolas stopped pretending he hadn't been listening.

Sam, feeling nervous now that everyone was staring at him, continued. "This creature, _Gollum,_ as it's called, we... I mean, he... We can't ignore his reputation," he finally finished.

"I'm not going to kill him," Frodo replied, indicating that such a notion was completely out of the question.

"I'm not saying that, Mr Frodo," Sam stuttered. "I'm just saying that maybe... Maybe Mr Legolas is right in that we shouldn't trust him. You know as well as I do the tales of those who he's killed, and he's capable of killing again."

"We swore to protect the precious!" Gollum suddenly cut in. In truth he had been trying to speak, for the best part of the entire conversation, but he kept getting talked over.

"That was not your oath," Aragorn snapped.

"We swore to serve the master of the precious... We would never kill him!"

"But you would kill those who follow him," Legolas said, unable to hold his tongue any longer.

"We wouldn't!" wailed Gollum, before crawling to the one person who had shown him pity. Clinging onto Frodo's leg, he started to sob. "Please... please don't hurt us... Please!"

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but Aragorn shot him a look, defying him to make a sound.

"Ok, this is my suggestion," Aragorn said. "We tie him up and bring him along with us. I daresay we'll find a use for him."

"Because that's going to work, isn't it?" Gimli said angrily. "Stealthily entering Mordor may prove very difficult with a screaming Gollum alerting every hostile eye and ear to us."

"Well there's a simple answer to that, isn't there?" Merry finally chipped in.

Everyone looked at him bemusedly.

"We gag him."

* * *

"So now what?" Pippin asked.

Gollum lay there, tied up, with a ball of fabric stuffed into his mouth. Frodo looked... apologetic? Angry?

"Now," Aragorn said, gathering their things and throwing them into his pack, "we cross that." He gestured at the marsh that lay before them.

Gimli looked at him, his expression saying what he left unvoiced. _You have got to be joking._

"Aragorn," the dwarf said testily. "That land is dangerous."

"And Moria wasn't?" Aragorn replied.

"Not compared to this! The dead linger there. I know nothing of the powers that their spirits hold, and I don't know about you, but I wouldn't like to find out."

"Gimli, the dead will not harm you," Legolas said calmly.

Pippin's eyes flitted backwards and forwards between the trio of warriors that remained to protect them. Aragorn was technically their leader, but Legolas and Gimli were pushing him to the limit.

"If we pass through those marshes we cut days off our journey," Aragorn said.

"In case you haven't noticed we have no time limit for this!" Gimli snapped. "It won't do anyone any good if we die trying to save time!"

"Gimli, is there something else going on here?" Legolas asked.

"No! There's... I... We shouldn't go through the marshes!" he said abruptly.

"Why not?"

"Because it's dangerous, and we'll be killed trying!"

"There was a time when I felt the same way about Moria."

"And look what happened there!" Gimli snapped. "We lost Gandalf there! I do not wish to lose Aragorn, or anyone else for that matter, doing something similar in some reckless abandon!"

"If you knew Moria was dangerous, why did you desire to go that way?" Legolas replied, fury etched in his features.

"I wished to look upon the home of my forefathers," Gimli replied, his irritation matching the elf's tone.

"And I wish to look upon the body of my grandfather!" Legolas snapped, finally revealing why he wished to cross the marshes. "Is that really so much to ask?"

"ENOUGH!" Aragorn shouted over whatever response Gimli was trying to throw back at the elf. "Frodo, you're the Ring bearer, this is your decision." The look in the man's eyes quite clearly said: 'This is your problem now.'

Frodo glanced between the elf and the dwarf, before lowering his eyes to the floor. "We will go round," he said, not looking at either. "I do not wish a repeat of Moria, and the difference between here and Moria was that the mines seemed the lesser of two evils, while there are other paths now. I will not take a dangerous road while there are safer paths. We will go round."

Gimli huffed in agreement, but Legolas remained impassive.

"So be it," Aragorn said, relieved that a decision had been made and that nobody was contesting it. "We go round."

They started packing up the camp in silence.

"Aragorn," Legolas asked as they were about to leave. His tone was confrontational, but his face was emotionless.

"You know what, Legolas? _No!_ I'm not going to listen to you whine about Gollum, or the road, or anything else right now. I will not have you testing my leadership again, not now. You're a leader, but if you want to become a truly great one, you have to learn how to follow first!"

He turned away and stormed off, and the rest of the Fellowship followed him. Legolas waited for a minute, hurt in his eyes, but quickly disguised just how much that comment had stung.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Holding an absolutely furious Gollum over his shoulder, Aragorn trudged on. He longed to throw a punch at both Legolas and Gimli. He couldn't handle their constant disputes and repeated questioning of his authority. They knew that he had been flung into this unwillingly, and yet they still tried to make life as difficult as possible, it seemed.

He knew the hobbits were shaken by the argument between their protectors, but at this point, he cared very little. He was furious at himself about as much as Legolas and Gimli. He had thrown his responsibilities as leader onto Frodo's shoulders, as he had become more and more prone to do. He felt ashamed of himself – Frodo already bore the reason for this journey, he should not have to bear the burden of leadership of it as well. He cringed inwardly as he recalled the confrontation between Legolas and Gimli and how he'd forced Frodo to resolve it.

Snapping Aragorn out of his reverie, Legolas came up behind him.

"It hasn't escaped my notice that you're angry with me," he said calmly.

Aragorn decided not to dignify that comment with an answer.

"What have I done?"

Aragorn cast him a sidelong glare.

"Legolas, I can't have you constantly undermining my authority," he snapped. "When I make an important decision I really need you, of all people, to follow that, not constantly question it."

Legolas' expression was completely unreadable. "Aragorn, I've never once questioned your leadership before now. But before now I've never had any reason to. I may not have agreed with some of your ideas of resting constantly, but I could see why you decided to do so. In case you hadn't noticed, I only started to question your leadership when you decided to drag that creature along with you," he shot a glance of loathing at Gollum, unceremoniously swung over Aragorn's shoulder. "To me, this decision is obvious – kill a murdering piece of scum that will cause the death of us all, or else bring it along with us when it will bring the hordes of Mordor to us like moths to a flame. My choice _would_ be to kill it, but it was your choice to make. And you chose to let it live. You know what this creature is capable of just as well as I do."

Legolas' tone had remained level throughout, whatever anger he was feeling well hidden beneath a cool facade. But it didn't stop Aragorn becoming angry. "Legolas, that is exactly what I'm talking about! You constantly question my judgement, and you just won't accept the fact that we are taking Gollum with us. We might find a way to make him useful. So can you just stop trying to change my mind!"

"Fine," Legolas said coolly, though his eyes flashed with anger. "I'll stop – if this final warning does not convince you. That creature is evil. It will murder us all by night if we don't keep it tied up securely with a constant watch, and it will alert Sauron to whatever way we choose to enter Mordor. It will never stop trying to get the Ring, and if we drop our guards for a second, it will get its deceitful claws into us and won't let go. And when it does, do _not_ come crying to me!"

Legolas stormed ahead, furious. But he suddenly stopped when he was about ten feet ahead of them. None of them needed Legolas' vision to notice that the elf had tensed. A sudden dread fell on the company, as Legolas constantly tried to locate the source of his unease. It was only as he looked to the sky that a shadow fell over them, obliterating the sun.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry about the stupidly long gap between chapters, but I haven't abandoned this story. When I started this story I had just finished writing a story centred around Legolas with a bunch of OCs, and so I needed to get back into the swing of writing with the rest of the Fellowship, and out of the rut I'd gotten into of writing with just Legolas. However, I've nearly finished writing a story which does include the rest of the Fellowship, so hopefully this chapter should be better and less elf-focused. So yeah, sorry about the wait...**

Chapter 5

Boromir yanked at the hand that gripped his mouth, fighting to get away.

"It would be wise not to struggle, Son of Gondor," whispered whoever owned the hand.

Boromir stopped, almost as though the voice controlled him.

"Now don't say a word."

The hand was removed from his mouth, and Boromir spun around, determined to face his adversary.

The figure was dressed entirely in white, but for a cloak like his own, which seemed to contain the light given out by his garments. The hood was up, which shielded the figure's face from view.

"Hello, Boromir," whispered the figure calmly.

_Saruman,_ Boromir thought.

"How do you know me?" Boromir hissed. "How do you know my name?"

"Don't you recognise your old friend?" said the figure.

"Who are you?" Boromir hissed at him, although he had a fairly shrewd idea who hid under that hood. He drew his sword, preparing to strike. "_Show yourself!_"

The figure lifted his hood, and revealed the last person Boromir expected to see. He dropped his sword, which landed with a clang on the floor, as his jaw fell.

"It cannot be..."

* * *

The entire company tensed as the shadow passed over them. However, it took very little notice of them, if indeed it had seen them at all. It flew away, and the sun bathed them all in a yellow light again.

"What was that?" asked Merry, his voice expressing the thoughts of the company.

"It was a winged messenger, like the one I shot down over Sarn Gebir," Legolas replied, returning to the company.

"_Like?_" Sam asked, confused.

"This one was different. The markings were different, and it was smaller."

"Why didn't you shoot?" Gimli asked. "Why did you let it go?"

"Because I daren't arouse the attention of the enemy. We may well have been camouflaged from the sky by our cloaks, and the messenger may have perceived us as part of the ground, but it would have been alerted to our presence had I missed. And also, if there are any foes who are on our level, we have nowhere to hide. It would be obvious that an archer would have taken down the creature, and unlike at Sarn Gebir, there is nowhere to hide in this bare land."

Aragorn remained silent, staring after the shadow. He knew that Legolas was right – to shoot down the creature would be folly. However, the winged messenger boded ill for the company. He knew, from the orcs' reaction on the eastern shore at Sarn Gebir that the airborne shadow was from either Mordor or Isengard. And if they were being watched by either, that was very bad news for Fellowship. As the creature flew away, Aragorn watched their chances of success shrink rapidly like the silhouette.

* * *

That evening, Gollum was dumped unceremoniously on the ground while the rest of the company began to set up camp around him. Gollum attempted to crawl into a dignified position, which was not easy considering his hands were tied behind his back.

Of course, the elf _would_ happen to be one of the protectors of the Ringbearer. And the elf _would_ happen to blame him for the death of his little brother. The elvish prince's presence here was not going to destroy his plans, no, he would let _nothing_ get in his way, but it was certainly an inconvenience, a hindrance that he would have happily foregone.

He knew that the man didn't trust him, and it was painfully obvious that the elf wanted to stick a knife in his chest, but the little people... he knew _one_ showed him mercy, the one who held the prize he coveted. Yet things were not as simple as they seemed. The rest of the company certainly wouldn't let him within ten feet of the Ring. But he wouldn't let that stop him.

As the remainder of the Fellowship settled down to sleep, Gollum's pale eyes fell on the hobbit who was taking the watch. Pippin sat down. Gollum stared at him intently, his eyes filled with hurt. Pippin cast the creature a nervous glance.

Pippin approached the creature nervously, and slowly pulled the gag down.

Gollum spluttered as the filthy piece of material was removed from his mouth. It felt remarkably good to be able to move his tongue.

"Are you all right?" Pippin asked.

Gollum coughed all over the rocks, before nodding vigorously.

"For what it's worth, I wish that they would be nicer to you," Pippin said. "They treat you like you're some sort of criminal."

"No, precious... we are nothing of the sort..." Gollum rasped.

"One thing I don't understand is why Legolas hates you so much," Pippin continued. "You did not actively kill his brother. I didn't even know he had a brother until he mentioned it."

Gollum simply blinked back at him.

"I always thought Bilbo was a fool for not killing you when he had the chance, but I see now that I was wrong," Pippin said. "You do not deserve to die."

"Where are you going, precious?" Gollum finally asked.

"What... what do you mean?"

"Where are you taking the precious? _Gollum, gollum!_"

"We are taking it... We are taking it to Mordor-"

"NO!" Gollum screamed frantically. "No, you can't take it there! Not to... not to _Him!_"

"We don't have a choice..."

"Please, precious, we cannot go back there! We cannot!"

"Why not?"

"Because we'd die, precious!" Gollum wailed. "All of us, He would kill all of us! He would find us, and take the precious back, and then, then He would kill us! He cannot get the precious, please, don't take the precious back to him!"

"Shh!" Pippin hissed frantically. "Please, just don't talk so loudly! Otherwise the others will wake up and then they'll kill me for talking to you!"

"Don't take it back there!" Gollum pleaded. "He would kill us!"

"We don't have a choice in this matter," Pippin said. "We must take it to Mordor. Now in a few minutes my watch is going to be over and then I'll need to wake Strider, so I'm going to need to gag you again."

Gollum glared furiously at Pippin, but he suffered the hobbit to tie the fabric around his mouth. Pippin, however, tied the gag much more loosely than it had been at the start of the night.

As Pippin headed over to where Aragorn lay, he could not ignore the small voice in the back of his mind.

'_Pippin, you fool. You cannot trust this creature. There is a reason why the big folk do not, and you had better follow their lead. He's dangerous. Nothing good can come of it, and yet there are more ways than you can imagine that this could end badly!'_

But as Pippin cast the sad, sorry creature an appraising look, he could not see the dangerous murderer that the many tales he had heard of it had portrayed. All he could see was a creature whose life had been wrecked by an object of great power, power that he himself had felt, but all he could feel now was pity.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The next morning was wet. The weather had, at some point during Gimli's watch, decided that it was going to attempt to flood the flat plains that the Fellowship were currently traversing, and the rain had not lifted its assault since, which had severely dampened the mood of the seven travellers – not just because they were cold and wet, but because they hadn't had that much sleep.

The somewhat dour mood had led to Aragorn tying a rope to Gollum's hands and leading him like a dog, because he was so bored of constantly getting kicked in the chest whenever he carried Gollum. The Fellowship now took turns to drag the creature behind them, and Merry had drawn the short straw and took the first turn, a task that Gollum was doing all in his power to make as difficult as possible.

"I'm beginning to understand why Legolas hates this vile creature so much," Merry hissed to Pippin as he yanked on the rope to stop him from digging his heels into the ground.

"Legolas resents and distrusts him, and not without reason," Aragorn corrected Merry. "It was his brother who came up with the idea of taking Gollum into the forest, an idea that Legolas himself was against. It was a couple of weeks later that Gollum escaped and his brother was killed, and it was plain that Gollum had been in league with the orcs. Legolas blames Gollum for that, and doesn't trust him one jot."

Merry tugged on the rope again, sending Gollum sprawling into the dirt.

"Hey, go easy on him!" Pippin said indignantly.

"What?" Merry stared at Pippin incredulously.

"You could be a bit kinder to him!" Pippin shot back. "Rather than pulling him into the dirt you could, perhaps, talk to him?"

"I tried being kinder to it, he didn't respond to that. And what do you mean, '_talk to it_'? What am I supposed to do? Ask it nicely if it felt like it wants to try cooperating with us?"

"What is the _matter_ with you, Merry? Legolas, I might expect this from, but _you?_ Calling him '_it_' all the time, dragging him around on his front... He's a living creature, not a lump of dead wood!"

Merry stared at his cousin like he was insane.

"I really don't understand your problem," Merry snapped. "You wanted me to take it- _him!_" Merry corrected irritably as Pippin opened his mouth angrily. "And yet, now you aren't happy. May I ask – _what – is – your – problem?_"

"Why don't we all just calm down..." Gimli suggested quiety.

"My _problem_ is that you do not seem to show even the _slightest_ bit of compassion towards him!" Pippin yelled, taking absolutely no heed of Gimli's feeble attempt at peacemaking.

"_Compassion?_" Merry repeated incredulously. "What has it- he done to deserve compassion?"

"What has he done to deserve forsaking it?"

"Oh, for the love of..." Frodo said exasperatedly, before marching over to Merry and snatching the rope from his hands. "There! Merry, you no longer have to hold him, Pippin, you no longer have to worry about Merry not treating him well, now why don't the pair of you hold your tongues before you attract every orc between Mirkwood and Mordor?"

As the uncomfortable Fellowship followed the irate Ring-bearer, the elf in their midst glanced at Merry and Pippin.

"And so it begins."

* * *

"G-Gandalf?" Boromir stuttered.

Gandalf simply nodded at the man. Boromir's eyes travelled over the garments that he thought belonged to Saruman. The white clothes were so bright they seemed to give their own light, that was only contained by the grey cloak, very similar to his own.

"But... but..."

"Do not ask me how," Gandalf said. "For I know not, save for a brief tale that can wait. Right now, we need to get to the Fellowship to warn them of this. We have no choice but to follow them."

"But I-"

"Yes, I know what you did," Gandalf replied abruptly. "However, now is not the time to dwell on the past. You have seen with your own eyes the danger that the Ring is in, and if you had any love for any of the Fellowship, you will come with me and aid them in the upcoming fight."

"But how, pray, do you propose we reach them? We are on the west bank, they are on the east. They took the boats. We have no means of reaching them, because unless you are cunningly concealing a barge beneath that giant cloak of yours, we have no boat."

"Oh, Boromir, you really have lived in Minas Tirith for too long," Gandalf said witheringly. "Look around you."

Boromir cast a sceptical glance at the forest he was in.

"We're in a forest, so?" And then his eyes widened as suddenly he understood. "You cannot be serious."

"Why not?"

"You cannot be suggesting that we build a boat."

"Not a boat," Gandalf corrected. "A _raft_."

Boromir stared at Gandalf, the only sound the rain hammering on the canopy of leaves above him.

"That is insane."

"Why?" Gandalf snapped.

"Because I don't know how to build a raft!"

"Well luckily I do, so-"

"It will take us too long to build it."

"Boromir, kindly remember who you are talking to. If I can come back from the pits of Khazad-dûm, I can build a raft within an evening. The only question is whether or not you'll accompany me, and regain a little honour."

"I must go to Minas Tirith-"

"Boromir, Gondor is beyond your aid now. The only way that you, or indeed anyone, can save Gondor now is to destroy Sauron. And the only way we can do that is to destroy the Ring."

"Frodo will not accept my help, and even if he does, Aragorn will not let-"

"Aragorn be damned! The only crime that you have committed was falling prey to a power far beyond that which Aragorn can comprehend. You two will have to make peace eventually, so you might as well start by trying now. So... are you with me?"

Boromir looked at the wizard, still unable to believe that Gandalf was standing in front of him. If Gandalf could come back from the pits of Khazad-dûm, then there must be a hope of catching up with the Fellowship. But something also changed in his mind. His mind flashed back to the moment that he had tried to take the Ring. He saw again the fear in Frodo's eyes, and suddenly, he felt ashamed. Ashamed of his weakness. He had to make this right.

"What would you like me to do?"

* * *

**A/N: Due to the fact that I'm off to Australia for two weeks, it's unlikely that there will be any updates again in August. However, with no internet distractions, two 24-hour flights and a hell of a lot of jet lag, I might go a little crazy on the writing front and so around the 4th or the 5th September there may be about forty billion chapters, where we _finally_ get to Cirith Ungol, where things really start going to hell. In other news, sorry for the lateness of _this_ update, it's because my computer screen broke... **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Again, sorry about the lack of updates, and sadly I haven't got to the bit I wanted to get to. However, I have got to a vaguely exciting part of the story, where something new and different happens, and we can finally get past this atmosphere of distrust building up in the Fellowship to the point where all hell breaks loose****! Let me know what you all think of the next three chapters, as more reviews = me seeing more people reading this = more motivation = faster updates/more interesting chapters. Concrit welcome.**

Chapter 7

"Where are we going, exactly?" Pippin asked.

"As I said before," Frodo explained tersely, "we are going to the Black Gate. From there we will decide what to do, and what exactly our strategy is."

"Well, how much longer is it going to take to get there?" Pippin whined.

"Stop complaining, will you?" Merry snapped. "It's getting on my nerves."

The pair hadn't exactly made up over their recent argument, and had spent the rest of the day walking in tense silence. It was nightfall, and the Fellowship had decided to camp. Aragorn was off with Legolas scouting the area for something vaguely edible, or to check if there was any chance of them being discovered.

"Take comfort, Pippin," Gimli said warmly – the words of the dwarf were the only thing that kept the atmosphere turning into solid ice, and for that the hobbits were grateful. "We should reach Mordor tomorrow."

"I do not know whether I should be relieved or more worried than ever at that," Pippin commented. "I suppose I should be happy to escape this wasteland, but I fear what lies ahead in Mordor."

"You would be a fool not to," Gimli said wisely. "There are horrors beyond our imagination there. But- Hold on, what is going on there?"

The hobbits and dwarf turned their attention to the two figures that were striding towards them, clearly recognisable as Aragorn and Legolas. Their voices carried back to the camp, and it was clear that they were fighting.

"Perhaps I might be in a better mood to listen to your _demands_ had you not constantly questioned everything I've done since Amon Hen!" Aragorn shouted.

"_Demands?_ I am not making demands! I am simply pointing out that this path is madness!"

"It is the only way I can see this quest succeeding."

"What? By marching up to the Black Gate and saying 'hello Sauron, I don't suppose you'd let us use your mountain for a minute? Only we've got this ring of yours, the one you want so badly, and we want to destroy it.' Oh yes, I can see that working like a charm!"

Gimli elected to get up to tell them to, at the very least, act with a little discretion.

"Legolas, you're beginning to sound like Boromir."

"Oh please," Legolas snapped witheringly. "Don't compare me to _that-_"

"There! You see? You're so condescending about all those who don't agree with you, those who may have different ideas to you!"

"He was _weak!_"

"No, he was desperate! His country, _my_ country is about to embark on its biggest war, and he needed a way to save it!"

"Yet you didn't try to take the Ring!"

"That object is the most powerful thing in this Fellowship, and always has been! Do not blame Boromir for falling to something beyond your own strength! Do not pretend you haven't felt the Ring's call!"

"Yes, alright, I've felt it, but I resisted it!"

"As did Boromir, for a time. But... Oh, I see now!"

Legolas' expression morphed into one of confusion.

"Oh, this makes sense of _everything!_ Why you're so desperate to get rid of Gollum, why you constantly try to delay us..."

"I'm not trying to _delay_ us, I'm saying that we should find a different way into Mordor!"

"You want it, don't you?"

Legolas stared at Aragorn, his eyes flashing, as his confusion changed to horrific comprehension.

"How... _dare_... you..." he hissed. "You think that I would throw away the future that my father fought for, that my grandfather died for, for the sake of a trinket?"

"I never said that-"

"But you implied it!"

"Excuse me," Gimli hissed, causing man and elf to jump. "But may I remind you we are not exactly far from Mordor, and yet you are shouting about _it_ without a care in the world for who else may be listening!"

Legolas glanced back at Aragorn with unveiled loathing and contempt.

"I'll finish the watch on my own," he muttered before storming away.

* * *

The camp was utterly still, Pippin was sure of it. Aragorn had asked them to take watches, despite the fact that Legolas had still not returned. It was nearly dawn, and Gollum was the only other awake.

Pippin scrambled over to the tree Gollum was tied to, pulling down the cloth that held the creature's tongue against the base of his mouth. After allowing Gollum a minute to catch his breath, he began to talk.

"Today has been a long day..." Pippin muttered, hoping for some response.

He was disappointed, as Gollum just stared back at him.

"I just... Merry was being ridiculous! So I choose to care about you, is that really such a crime? I really thought he was better than that! He treats me like a fool, but I'm not! He's always done this, looking down on me like I'm a child."

Again, Gollum gave no reply.

"But there's also the fact that... I'm scared. I'm terrified of what tomorrow may bring. I mean... tomorrow... we're going to the Black Gate-"

"NO!" Gollum squawked, pure terror flooding into his visage. Pippin frantically hushed him, knowing it was only a matter of time before he was discovered. However, much to his relief, nobody stirred.

"Please... it's not safe there!" Gollum begged. "Please don't take it there! Not the precious! He'll find it there! You have to take some other way!"

"There is no other way..." Pippin stated.

"Yes there is!" Gollum begged. "There is a pass... It goes over the mountains... And there is a stair, yes, a very long stair... And a tunnel... It's not safe, no, no, very _un_safe, but please don't take it to the Gate!"

Pippin looked at him, his fear of what lay ahead at the gate conflicting with his loyalty to those he trusted.

"Please," whispered Gollum. "If you go to the Gate, you will take the precious back to him!"

"We don't have a choice!" Pippin hissed.

"Yes you do!" Gollum begged. "You can take it by the tunnel!"

"But how on earth am I supposed to convince the others to go there?" Pippin asked. "It would mean confessing that you suggested it and Legolas doesn't trust you at all."

"The elf..." Gollum muttered, "the elf cannot be trusted. You heard him, he wants the precious for himself..."

"That was just Aragorn's suspicion, Legolas was furious about it!"

"The elf only denied it because he had to, he wants it for his self, he will try to take it soon, yesss... very soon..."

Pippin remained silent, and yet... since he had overheard Aragorn's accusation, the seeds of doubt had been sown into his mind. He could not stop thinking about Boromir's attempt to take the Ring, and from what he knew of Legolas, their stories were not so different. Both were the eldest sons of rulers, rulers of lands torn apart by constant warring with Sauron's forces, and both rulers would soon find themselves relieved of power, even if the Shadows looming over each kingdom departed – Boromir, because Aragorn would return and claim his throne, and Legolas, whose people were departing to the West.

"The elf... he could easily take the precious, yesss... and he will destroy anyone who stands in his way..."

"Enough!" Pippin cried out, trying vainly to disguise the note of panic in his voice, pulling the gag over Gollum's mouth before leaping back as though burned. "Just... just... stop! Legolas wouldn't... he's-"

"Pippin?" came a very familiar voice. "Pippin, are you all right?"

"Merry?" Pippin gasped, struggling to control his frantic breathing. "What are you doing up?"

"You woke me," Merry replied, a touch disdainfully, as though he would have much rather gone back to sleep than explain what he felt was the blatantly obvious to his cousin. "Your constant, high-pitched panicking woke me up."

"Oh... sorry..."

"S'alright," Merry grudgingly said. "What put you into that mood? Bad dream?"

"What? Err- yes. I just- I-"

"Well, why don't you just take some deep breaths, and remember that it was just that – a dream. It's not real, and so don't spend waking hours worrying about it."

"Err... right. Thank you."

"No problem. Now I'm going back to sleep, and I intend to stay in that unconscious state until such a time that Aragorn chooses to wake me. You'd better finish your watch without dropping off again."

"Ok, well... good night..."

Merry rolled over and soon his soft snores filled the camp, leaving Pippin awake to dwell on his thoughts. Quite apart from anything else, it frightened him how close he had come to being discovered, and it was only luck (and his own fear of what Gollum would say next) that had saved him. But much more importantly, if Legolas really _did_ desire the Ring, just how far would he go to take it for his own. It worried him that Legolas was tempted by the Ring much more than it had Boromir. For if the evil that the Ring carried had clawed its way into the heart of one of the Eldar, then what hope was there for the rest of Middle Earth? How many more victims would it claim before it was destroyed – or before it had won, and resided on the hand of its master once more?


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Dawn arrived with Legolas. It was clear to the others that he had been stung by Aragorn's accusations, just as it was clear to him that others now shared the man's suspicions, though to varying extents.

Aragorn cast a warning glance at Legolas as he returned, defying him to do anything that could disrupt the relative peace of the company. Instead, the silence was only broken by the rustlings as the others began to get up.

They left camp as the rain started to fall heavily, the heavy trepidation weighing on the company as they dreaded what was to occur that day. So it wasn't a huge surprise when Pippin broke the silence with:

"Are you absolutely sure this is wise?"

Merry let out an audible sigh, as Frodo turned towards him.

"Pippin, I know you're scared, but do you know another way into Mordor?"

"No."

"Right, so shall we continue?" Frodo said decisively, as Gimli offered the youngest hobbit a reassuring smile.

Pippin didn't answer, but stayed put as the rest of the Fellowship began to walk away.

"But Gollum might," he finally said, catching everyone off-guard.

Aragorn stopped and looked straight at Frodo. Legolas suddenly stiffened, as two of his fundamental principles came into conflict. Gimli cast a distrustful glare at Gollum, flatly refusing to believe any good of the creature. Merry stared at his cousin.

"Pip, what are you talking about?" Merry muttered. "He can't help us."

"Yes he can," Pippin replied adamantly. "He has been inside Mordor before, he could show us a different way in."

"That is assuming there's a different way into Mordor to show us," muttered Sam.

Frodo met with Aragorn's gaze, which had never moved from him, and nodded subtly. Aragorn, understanding exactly what was being asked of him, walked straight over to Gollum and pulled the gag down.

"Is what Pippin suggests true?" he asked, a dark scowl on his face. "Is there another way into Mordor?"

Gollum raised his eyes to meet with the ranger's hard stare, before nodding.

"Aragorn, you can't!" Legolas practically begged, unable to contain himself any longer. His desperation not to walk straight into the open arms of the enemy had come into conflict with his instinct never to trust Gollum, and his instinct won.

"You wanted a different way into Mordor last night, did you not?" Aragorn snapped.

"Whatever this creature says is part of a plan to get _it_ back!" Legolas said desperately. "I wanted another way into Mordor, but whatever Gollum says will put us all in danger!"

"No!" Gollum cried. "Sméagol wouldn't hurt the precious! Sméagol promised! He swore on the precious!"

"What is the other way in?" Frodo asked, coming face to face with Gollum.

"It is a pass, after a long stair... It is not far, it would take us a few days to get there-"

"What is its name?" Gimli asked.

"I... I..."

"_Cirith Ungol?_" Gimli pressed. "Is that what it's called?"

Gollum turned his pale eyes onto Gimli, before nodding reluctantly.

"No..." Legolas breathed. "I thought it was just a legend..."

"_You've_ heard of Cirith Ungol?"

Legolas cast a withering look at Gimli, before turning to Frodo.

"Please, Frodo, I beg of you, do not consider that path. The tales we tell in Mirkwood of it are that there is an evil here that sired the evil in our forest. Please, it could only end badly!"

Frodo glanced at Legolas, torn by his desire to take another road and his fear of what lay in the pass which had filled the elf with so much fear. He gave Legolas an apologetic look, before removing the rope from around Gollum's neck. Legolas shook his head desperately.

"Take us there," was all Frodo said.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_That evening..._

What would have otherwise been an utterly silent landscape was marred by both the sound and the sight of a column of black traversing the plains. Five hundred creatures, tall, broad, and armed to the teeth, were running at full pelt under the sun – an astonishing sight for any to behold. Their grotesque faces were twisted into expressions of grim determination. Their leader bent to the ground, glancing at soft imprints in the mud.

"How long?" asked one of the abominations.

The leader straightened up, a horrible smile on its face. Its eyes lit up with excitement and bloodlust.

"These tracks are less than a day old," it said to the group. "We should catch up with them by dawn."

"But sir," asked another, who had bent down to look at the footprints. "These tracks are heading south, not east. They aren't going in by the front entrance."

Under most circumstances, the leader would have executed the soldier within seconds for what he deemed such impertinence. However, he bent to the ground instead, looking at the tracks with curiosity.

"So they aren't..." the leader said, tracing the footprints with gloved fingers. "But then where _are_ they going?"

"Maybe they're going to... But surely they wouldn't be stupid enough to go to... _her?_"

"Maybe they are..." the leader mused. "But that's just perfect. We can herd them there. Come on then, boys! A feast awaits us!"

And the black column moved off, at twice the speed they were going at before, trampling over the footprints and churning up mud, removing any visible trace that anything else had been there before.

* * *

The Fellowship, unaware of what chased them, continued moving well into the night. Frodo felt less comfortable than he had before travelling south, down the west side of Mordor, than he had beforehand. The Ring was weighing heavily on his neck and even more heavily on his mind. He couldn't help but feel that it was having a similar effect on the rest of the company that it had had on Boromir. He knew Gollum desired it more than life itself, and he wondered what would happen to the creature when the Ring was destroyed.

His trust in Sam was strongest – he felt that at the very end, when all others had fled, Sam would be the one by his side. And yet... even his trust in Sam was weakening. He had felt the temptation of the Ring, he felt it all the time, and sometimes he stopped to wonder what he could do if he wielded an object with such power, and he knew the others had felt the Ring's call. He shuddered to think what would happen if Legolas took the Ring, as Aragorn had suggested he desired to, yet he did not feel in his heart that it was Legolas who posed the biggest threat.

He was brought out of his reverie by Aragorn calling after Gollum.

"We rest here for tonight," he said firmly. "Gollum! Get back here!"

The skulking creature slipped back into the group as Sam began to set a fire. Gimli announced that he was planning on getting firewood, and Legolas agreed to go with him. Nobody had spoken much that day, each too absorbed in their own thoughts, and the night wasn't all that different.

Aragorn handed a large fragment of a wafer of _lembas_ out to each of the company, the one bit of forced conversation that any of them felt the need to share, before they lapsed into uncomfortable silence, only broken by the crackle of the small fire and the occasional crunch of the biscuit.

Frodo took himself a little way apart from the company, on the edge of the circle of light the fire provided. He liked the idea that he was in the shadows, where he could easily escape unfriendly eyes that might watch him. He could pretend that the unfriendly eyes came solely from the sky, or the copse of trees surrounding him, or were the pale eyes of Sméagol, but if he was honest with himself, the more pressing danger came from the remaining members of the Fellowship. He didn't like the way they constantly stared at him, before averting their eyes quickly, trying to pretend they weren't. He also felt that they were getting more hostile, as the seeds of distrust of each other planted themselves in their minds. Trying to pretend to himself that the Fellowship was as united as ever, he lay down with his back to the company, and tried to sleep.

He drifted off into a tormented rest, filled with dreams of conflict. He dreamt of Legolas and Aragorn's argument the previous night, of Pippin and Merry's argument earlier. He dreamt of Boromir's attempt to take the Ring for his own, and he could see Boromir replaced with all the members of the Fellowship. He saw in his mind the battle in Moria between the Fellowship and the orcs residing there, and suddenly saw them turning against one another. The clashes of swords and the shouts of the company mingled with the sounds of the night, echoing each other – _echoing each other?_

Frodo suddenly realised he was awake, but he did not dare open his eyes yet. He heard shouting above his head, and suddenly felt something pointed and cold press against his neck. He finally opened his eyes, and found himself staring up the blade of a sword, which had its tip pressed against his throat.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Aragorn surveyed the scene in front of him. Sam, who had been on watch, had a cloth held over his mouth. He was making odd, muffled noises, which the man had no doubt were curses aimed at his captor. Merry and Pippin had their arms twisted behind their backs, Gimli had his axe raised menacingly, and Legolas had his bow in his hand, fitted with an arrow and pointing at what had grabbed Aragorn's immediate attention.

He stared over at the figure who had Frodo held at sword-point, surveying his appearance. The figure was a man, a little shorter than himself, and of a similar build. It was hard to see clearly in the dark, but Aragorn guessed that he was clad in green and brown, with a hood cast over his eyes and a mask covering the rest of his face.

"Which among this rabble do you name as your leader?" asked the man.

Aragorn raised his head slightly. "Who are you?"

"I do believe it's customary for the guests to declare themselves first when in a foreign land," laughed the man. "And until I decide otherwise, all you will know is that we are your... hosts."

This elicited a laugh from the man holding Sam, and the gardener let out a new string of curses.

"Who are you, and why are you with this mismatched gaggle of outcasts?" asked the man with Frodo at the point of his sword, who seemed to be the leader.

"We are travellers, passing through this land," Aragorn said shortly.

"There are no travellers in Ithillien," hissed the leader. "What are your names?"

"We are on an urgent errand from Elrond of Rivendell," Frodo said, glaring up the sword. "And before we tell our names, you could at the very least remove your sword."

"Provided that your archer lowers his bow," the leader conceded, turning his concealed face to Legolas. Aragorn nodded, and Legolas, understanding the unvoiced order, stowed the arrow back in his quiver, but the bow remained in his hand.

The leader lifted his sword from Frodo's neck, but made no attempt to sheathe it, and the hobbit got up, dusting himself down. He grudgingly nodded his thanks.

"Do not try to run," the leader warned. "There are fifteen of us surrounding you, though you may not see them all. And we know this land better than any... 'traveller'..." he used the word sceptically, "ever could. Now, I have removed my sword, so tell me your names."

"I am known as Strider," Aragorn said. "I am a ranger from the north. This is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of Mirkwood. My friend who you have gagged is Samwise Gamgee, and my friends over there are Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, and this-"

"I go by the name of Frodo Baggins," Frodo said before Aragorn could introduce him. "Now we have told you our names, could you please tell us who interrupts our journey?"

"We are the rangers from the south," the leader said, a hint of mirth creeping into his voice as he turned to Aragorn. "And while your friend Strider may not have had the courtesy to tell us his _real_ name, I at the very least have the courtesy of telling you _mine._ I am Faramir, captain of Gondor. Now tell me, what business do you have in Ithillien?"

"As I believe I mentioned before," Aragorn stated, "we are travellers passing through this land. We are on an errand to see the destruction of the lord of the Black Land, and if you oppose him, it would be a wise move to let us go."

"What errand is this?"

"An important one."

Faramir laughed bitterly. "You hardly inspire confidence, _Strider_," Faramir said. "Why should I allow you to continue, when your leader gives a false name and a poor description of his purpose in our land?"

"We seek to destroy Isildur's bane," Frodo blurted out.

Faramir fell silent, and the atmosphere suddenly became a lot more tense.

"Isildur's bane?" Faramir breathed. "You have it with you?"

Frodo chose not to answer.

"What is it?" Faramir asked more urgently. "Tell me of it."

Aragorn drew his sword at what he deemed the new threat.

"You will know nothing more of it," Aragorn promised Faramir.

Faramir raised his own sword at the challenge.

"Strider," Gimli warned.

Aragorn glanced at Faramir's raised sword, but reluctantly lowered his own. Faramir mimicked him, but neither blade made it to their sheaths.

"We have much to discuss, _Strider_," Faramir said.

* * *

"So what is the nature of Isildur's bane?" Faramir asked Aragorn.

They were a little apart from the others, who sat in a cluster of members of the Fellowship and rangers of Ithillien.

"It is an object of great power and greater evil," Aragorn said. "It cannot be wielded by any save our Enemy."

"And what possessed a man, an elf, a dwarf and four Halflings to undertake this task?"

"We were originally nine. We passed through Moria, but we lost our original guide on the bridge of Khazad-dûm. Our second companion left us on the banks of the Anduin, because he did not believe in our quest.

"Who were your companions?"

"We lost Mithrandir in Moria. The companion that left us on the Anduin was a man of Gondor. His name was Boromir."

"_Boromir?_" Faramir echoed. "What fate has befallen Boromir?"

"He was consumed with desire for the- Isildur's bane. He attempted to take it, but when he could not, he departed our company, intending to head for his home city."

"He is on his way back?" Faramir sounded elated.

"Unless something truly remarkable has happened to change his destination, then yes, I believe he is."

"How long ago was this?"

"Six days ago," Aragorn said. "Six days since we parted at the seat of Amon Hen."

Faramir looked lost in thought, finally pulling down his mask and hood. "Six days..." he breathed. "It is not totally without the bounds of possibility that he chose to come back on foot, in which case he would still be travelling, but if I know him at all, then he would make for Edoras and borrow a horse... He should be back by now..."

"Faramir, what do you know of him?"

Faramir looked at Aragorn incredulously. "What do I _know_ of him? Everything. He is my brother."

Aragorn regarded Faramir carefully. Boromir had oft spoken of a younger brother, saying that he was wise but undervalued. He could see the resemblance Faramir bore to Boromir physically – their eyes were the same colour, and their facial features were of a similar shape, yet there was something lighter about his build, and something different about his air. He could see that, should nobody else have any influence over him, Faramir would probably understand at some point that what they were doing was for the good of all Middle Earth – a point which his brother had disagreed with strongly. However, Aragorn could also see that Faramir was desperate to prove himself, and Aragorn was not sure that Faramir's wisdom would override his desperation.

"So what is your real name?" Faramir asked.

"Aragorn," he finally conceded. "Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

-:-

Frodo stared into the dying embers of the fire, unable to lower his guard to the men surrounding him. He knew that the men distrusted this mismatched group of travellers, and it was quite clear the feeling was mutual. Sam had flung himself down next to Frodo, having finally been freed from his captor. He was muttering a frankly astounding array of curses at his former captor under his breath.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by Gimli noticing something – or the absence of something.

"Where's..." he said hesitantly, uncertain of how to put it in front of the rangers. "Where's our guide?"

There was a pause, as everyone looked around for Gollum.

Frodo shut his eyes exasperatedly. "No..." he hissed through gritted teeth.

"That slinker's given us the slip," Sam growled.

"He must have slipped off when the fight started," Gimli snapped, venting his frustration by kicking a rock.

"Now, normally I'm not one to be petty," Legolas began, "but I told you so. That creature could not be trusted. He runs away at the first sign of trouble, leaving everyone else to sort out any mess he's created, intentional or no. And now we're-"

"What's going on?" Aragorn asked, as he and Faramir returned.

"Our _guide_ has run off," Merry explained shortly.

"I _told_ you, Strider," Legolas snapped. "I _told_ you that this would happen – that he would slip away as soon as our backs were turned. We're just lucky that he didn't throttle us as he did so, or take it with him. And now, we are stuck in some miscellaneous part of Ithillien, trapped by a group of rangers, with absolutely no idea where we are, where we're going, or what dangers stand between us. Now I don't know about you, but I think chances of our success are dwindling rapidly to zero."

"You mean to tell me that there's another of your company?" Faramir asked incredulously.

"Indeed," Aragorn clarified.

"And he's escaped?"

"Unfortunately so."

Faramir turned to his men. "Spread out. Find him."

"How will you know what to look for?" Aragorn asked, struggling to contain his frustration.

"As I believe I've mentioned before," Faramir smirked at Aragorn, "there are no travellers in this land." He turned back to his men. "Bring _anyone_ that you find to me _alive_."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It seemed almost laughable to Aragorn that, after everything they'd been through, after Caradhras, after Moria, after a Balrog, the quest was likely to end due to Boromir's brother.

Somehow, Faramir had convinced him to allow his men to blindfold the company and take them to some form of concealed cave. None of the company had any idea where they were, and Faramir had neglected to explain anything in the few minutes that he had appeared. Similarly, the company had been forced to surrender their weapons. Some were understandably more reluctant than others.

"You look troubled, lad," Gimli finally interrupted Aragorn's thoughts.

Aragorn nodded. "It's just... maddening that after everything, this quest is going to fail due to people that, should the time have been right, I would-"

"You come from Rivendell, correct?"

Faramir had just returned.

"How would you know?" asked Aragorn, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice, a shadow of the frustration he was feeling creeping into his tone.

"I believe I mentioned that Boromir was my brother. He went to Rivendell to seek the answer to a riddle that came to both of us. He would not have gone anywhere else, and if he _had_ hypothetically joined a rag-tag bunch of misfits to go on some quest, he would have departed from Rivendell with them. Now answer me: am I right?"

Aragorn reluctantly nodded.

"You know, _I_ went to Rivendell once," Faramir continued. "When I was very young. It was on some form of diplomatic meeting, the details concerning exactly why we were there were never of any interest to me. But I remember the visit clearly. I was awed by Lord Elrond's house. I would spend hours in the library, studying Gondor's history. Lord Elrond even, at one point, showed me the shards of Narsil."

Aragorn tensed.

"I saw, with my own eyes, the shards of the sword that cut the One Ring from the Dark Lord's hand. I memorised every detail – every little carving on the blade, every vein of silver that detailed the hilt. And I promised myself that I would never forget it."

Aragorn raised a single eyebrow at Faramir.

"Now I've just seen something very interesting. I've just been inspecting what kind of weaponry '_travellers in Ithillien_' carry, and I pulled a blade from a sheath, and I recognised it. It was Narsil, re-forged. And yet, when _I_ saw it in Rivendell, it was broken, which means it must have been re-forged for you."

A brief look of horror flashed across Aragorn's face.

"But my understanding of Lord Elrond is that he would not re-forge what must be the most famous blade ever to grace Middle-Earth for _anyone_, not the Steward of Gondor, and _certainly_ not for a mere ranger from the North, which means one of two things. Either you stole it, or... there is more to you than meets the eye, and more chapters of your story that you have neglected to even mention. Now tell me – _who are you?_"

Aragorn sighed. He could not deny that the game was up.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You were right, Lord Elrond re-forged the blade for me before we set out on this quest. And you were also right about the fact that there is more to my story than what I have told you. I am heir to the throne of Gondor. But I have not come to take my place on the throne just yet. I will, should I survive, once this quest is over and we have gone into a new age of Middle Earth, for better or for worse."

"That is a big claim..." Faramir hissed. "One that I am yet to believe. Yet Narsil has returned to Gondor. The blade that cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand has returned to its home, along with Isildur's-"

He stopped abruptly, suddenly realising something.

"Isildur's bane..." he breathed. "It can't be..."

Aragorn opened his mouth to ask what was going on, before Faramir leapt back, away from the group.

"No!" he yelled. "No, it cannot be here. I will not have it in Gondor!"

"Have what in Gondor?" Aragorn asked.

"Isildur's bane... Is it not-"

"Not what?" Aragorn asked defensively. "Not _what_, pray?"

Faramir's eyes were wide. "The One Ring..." he breathed.

"What?" Aragorn was shocked that Faramir had worked it out.

"It is, is it not?" Faramir hissed.

Aragorn's silence was as good as a confirmation.

"No!" Faramir yelled. "I will not have it here in Gondor! I will not have the danger it brings with it come to my home! It has already claimed one of my friends, it will not claim more!"

"Faramir-"

"Oh, but this explains why my brother has been ostracised from your little group! He would have tried to take it, but you were not happy with this, so you threw him out into the wilds, to find his own way home!"

"I-"

"You will leave Gondor. You will not cross our borders again. I will not have the safety of my home jeopardised for the sake of some foolish elf mission!"

Aragorn was stunned. This was not how he had expected Faramir to react.

"Faramir, I promise you, we mean no harm to you or your people-"

"You have come to me reporting the death of someone who was very close to me, you make a claim that would usurp my father which I am yet to see if you deserve it, _and_ you bring with you the most powerful thing in all of Middle Earth save the one who resides in the Dark Tower himself – now give me one good reason why I should let _any_ of you pass!"

Aragorn drew himself up to his full height. "Because I am the rightful king of this land," Aragorn muttered quietly, but his voice carried all the authority of his title. "And although I may not be crowned yet, I can still command anyone in this realm. Now you will let us pass."

Faramir stood up, so his eyes were level with Aragorn's.

"My brother may have been ready to believe your lies," he answered in the same tone as Aragorn. "But I do not trust you – at all. You are not my king."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"You know, Faramir, there's one thing that I don't fully understand."

"Damrod, please," Faramir sighed.

"But Faramir, these people, _whoever_ they are, you want them to leave Gondor, correct?"

"Correct."

"Well, they _also_ want them to leave Gondor. They don't want to stay here. They want to enter Mordor."

"And that's what worries me."

"Why? If they are enemies of the Dark Lord, then they'll be slaughtered as soon as they enter."

"And so why would they want to enter Mordor if they're just going to be butchered like swine within minutes?"

"Who cares? Just as long as they're off our hands. We have enough trouble as it is."

"And what if they're friends of Sauron? We're just letting spies go straight back to him!"

"Well, what do you propose to do?"

"I- I just _don't know_. They carry something, and if it is what I think it is, and if they are who they say they are, then letting them pass could save us, yet if they fail, it also has the potential to destroy us. But if they are lying about anything, then..."

"Then Gondor could fall?"

"Yes," Faramir sighed.

"Well, what's the plan?"

"I need to find out more about them," Faramir said decisively. "I need to know who their guide is, and what they plan on doing with this thing. Then, and only then, can I make a decision."

"Of course, sir," Damrod said. "But there is one other thing."

"Hm?"

"Your brother would have reacted very differently to discovering Narsil in the hands of a ranger."

"Well I'm not my brother, am I?" Faramir hissed angrily. "I wish people would realise this."

"And by people, you mean your father," Damrod said knowingly. "I'm just saying that you should remember your dream. After all, this could be the Halfling."

"I highly doubt it, Damrod," Faramir said. "My dreams don't come true. The only dreams that hold any prophesising quality are the dreams of elves. They don't happen to me."

At that moment, the door burst open, revealing a very harrowed, confused looking ranger.

"Sir, you should come quickly," the ranger stammered. "We've found a- well, a- a- _something_. It's hard to describe. You should come and take a look."

* * *

Faramir walked into the small room, where, tied to a post by his ankle, was a creature that Faramir recognised at once, despite the fact that he'd only ever heard of him in legend. He was wailing in anguish and the men frantically tried to hush him, resorting to brutal methods. In the few moments as Faramir processed the scene in front of him, one of the rangers kicked the creature in the side as another hit him over the head.

"Stop it!" Faramir ordered.

The men instantly backed away from the creature, looking down on him with unconcealed looks of disgust.

Faramir cautiously approached the creature, squatting down to get on the same level.

"The creature Gollum," Faramir whispered. "That is what you are, is it not?"

Gollum sobbed, huddling against the post he was tied to, refusing to face Faramir.

"Are you alright?" Faramir asked, stretching out a hand to gently touch the creature.

Gollum flinched as Faramir's fingers brushed his shoulder, before scrambling around to the other side of the post.

"Sir, you shouldn't touch him!" one of his men burst out, unable to contain himself.

Faramir sighed, before withdrawing his hand and turning around to face the ranger.

"Why not?" Faramir asked, slightly impatient.

"Well, he's- he's dangerous!" the ranger said, sounding panicked. "I mean- you've heard the stories!"

"Everyone you meet, Tallad, is dangerous. You just need to convince them not to be a danger to you. Treat him like you were treating him earlier, and of course he will lash out, and when he lashes out, he is dangerous. But give him a chance, and he may prove to be very useful indeed."

Faramir turned away from Tallad, focusing once again on Gollum.

"Did they hurt you?" Faramir asked.

Gollum just nodded.

"I am sorry," Faramir said, sounding almost regretful.

There was a very pregnant pause as Faramir studied the creature carefully.

"You are in this land alone?"

A subtle shake of the head.

"Who are you with?"

No answer.

"A group of people? Men? Elves? Dwarves?"

Gollum did not so much as jerk his head.

"...Halflings?"

The silence that followed was so tense, as all the surrounding men held their breath, awaiting a response. Their eyes never left Gollum, unable to tear them away from the creature until they had gleaned an answer to the question.

They were disappointed, however, as Gollum gave them nothing. All he did was sit there, refusing to look up at Faramir. Faramir straightened up with a sigh, unable to hide his disappointment, before walking through the group of men to the door. The rangers fell in step behind them, casting Gollum looks of disappointment and revulsion. It was only as Faramir's hand was on the door that Gollum finally spoke for the first time since his capture, barring the wails he had emitted while in the hands of Faramir's men.

"Why should we protect them?"

One of the rangers was about to speak, but Faramir drew his fingers swiftly across his own throat in a silent order to remain mum.

"What loyalty to we have to them?" Gollum continued. "What could harm us if we told them about them?"

Faramir's expression morphed into one of confusion, but still he said nothing.

"_Because, _precious," Gollum's voice suddenly changed from soft to one of fury, "if we do, then the nasty men will take the precious away from the Baggins! And if the men have it, then that means we _won't!_ And we won't be able to get it off them now, will we, precious?"

Gollum's harsh tones vanished, going back to the soft tones of before. "And why not? At least if the men have it, they won't try to destroy it. They will keep _him_ from getting it, more than seven fools ever could."

"Who do you mean by '_him_'?" Faramir asked, so softly it would have been inaudible over Gollum's mutterings, had the creature not chosen to pause. A pause that continued long after Faramir had finished his question.

"Oh, _he_ has many names," Gollum muttered finally, in a playful voice that was louder than his previous tones. "I will not speak any of them, but he sits on his dark shadowed throne in the Black Land."

"And the precious?" whispered Tallad. "What is that?"

"It was our birthday present," Gollum's voice never changed. "It was a little golden ring, that was so perfect, until a hobbit stole it from us. The thief was a Baggins. And we hates them who try to keep the precious from us. It wants to come back to us. But more so does it want to go back to _him_. And they will take it to him. But we mustn't let them, must we, precious?"

Faramir stared at Gollum, taking in every word that had been said, before leaving the room brusquely. The rangers followed him, all of them understanding the importance of what had just been said.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Why didn't you tell us?" yelled Tallad. "Why didn't you tell us that the One Ring of power was in Ithillien?"

Faramir refused to answer.

"The most powerful object in all Middle Earth, what could be the salvation of Gondor, is within our grasp, and you just want to _throw it away?_" Tallad continued incredulously, uninterrupted by the other rangers.

"Yes, that is _exactly_ what I want," Faramir said. "And if you have any wisdom you'll listen to me!"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Tallad said faintly. "All your life, you, your brother, your father, you've been desperate for something to aid you in the fight against Mordor, and when the most perfect opportunity presents itself, you want nothing more than to be rid of it. Don't you see, Faramir? This could save Gondor!"

"No, it could ruin it," Faramir said bluntly. "It's ruined Gondor once before, it scattered the kings of this land, and I will not see my country ruined again!"

"You know, maybe your father's right about you!" Tallad shouted. "Maybe you _are_ weak! You tell us to throw away our best chance of saving Gondor, and you don't even give a proper reason! It's madness! Sheer and utter madness!"

Tallad turned around and strode towards the door, drawing his sword.

"TALLAD!" Faramir barked.

Tallad stopped and turned his head very slightly, but still refused to look at Faramir.

"The Ring is dangerous. If we keep it, we'll just end up fighting over it. We wouldn't be able to accurately gage when it is wise to use it, and use it for our own petty gains. Rifts would be drawn between the people and the stewardship, pushed to breaking point until finally the whole of Gondor snaps, shattering any bonds of blood and comradeship that once existed between us. Gondor would fall by its own hand, and the Dark Lord will have only to wait until he swoops in and takes our land for his own, and the Ring with it, and then all Middle Earth would fall. Don't you see? It has already begun."

Tallad paused for a minute, before turning his head fully so he could look Faramir straight in the eye. "Yeah. That's one possible outcome. Or it could save us all."

* * *

Frodo suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, as a feeling of trepidation crept over him. He couldn't for the life of him tell what it was, but he had a feeling that something had just gone very badly wrong for the quest.

At that moment, the door burst open, and in came a ranger, with long, black, ragged hair, and dark green eyes that somehow seemed darker than they should have been. The man reminded Frodo of Aragorn, and their first meeting in Bree. But in the man's eyes there was a sinister gleam, as his gaze was focused on Frodo.

"So this is how our salvation chooses to present itself," the man muttered quietly. There was something in his tone that caused the rest of the Fellowship to rise to their feet. The man, however, didn't notice, and it seemed to him that the only people in the world were Frodo and himself. "A young Halfling, carrying something that surpasses his own power a thousand times over."

Aragorn's eyes drifted to the man's sword, and the fingers that had wrapped themselves around the hilt.

"The stuff of legend, really," the man breathed.

"You will not touch it," Aragorn suddenly said, moving between Frodo and the ranger.

The man laughed humourlessly. "And what claim do _you_ have to it?" he said derisively. "The same claim that you have to the throne of Gondor?"

The look on Aragorn's face was murderous.

"You have no right to the throne," the man continued. "You deserted your people. If you had any love for this land you would have returned long ago. You aren't even of the same race as the men of Gondor! You are surely one of the Dunedain, your eyes and your arrogance betray you! You do not belong in Gondor. You would be so out of place!"

The man turned to the other members of the Fellowship. "Why so silent?" he asked accusingly. "Are you so strange that you can't talk? But I've heard all of you talk before, back in the clearing. Or..." his mind jumped to a sudden conclusion, "are you all silent because you know I'm right?"

"You could not be more wrong," Gimli ground out, shaking with fury.

The man's eyes widened incredulously. "You will pay for your insolence, _dwarf!_"

The man drew his sword, intending to bring it crashing down onto Gimli's head, when the door burst open, and Faramir ran in, his own sword drawn. He ducked under the man's arm and blocked the blow, flinging the blade back with such force that it flew from his hand. It landed near to Legolas, who placed his foot on it to prevent the man from picking it up.

"Tallad, what are you playing at?" yelled Faramir.

Tallad glared at Legolas, who refused to relinquish his hold on the sword and glared back with equal loathing.

"One could ask you the same question, Faramir," he said furiously. "If this man really _is_ our king, then why does he not hold the Ring? Why is it the Halfling that carries it?"

"You told them?" Aragorn hissed at Faramir furiously.

"I did no such thing," Faramir explained irritably. "It was your _pet_ that gave away your position."

"He's not our pet," Sam cut in abruptly.

"No, he's more like our prisoner," Gimli explained. "At least, he was until we became yours."

"Don't be silly, you're not our prisoners," Faramir corrected.

"Then what are they?" Tallad asked furiously. "Your _friends_?"

"Tallad..." Faramir growled, his patience thinning.

"What?" Tallad asked softly, the change in his voice so dramatic it was alarming. "What are you going to do? Have your father punish me? Have your false king exile me? I have no loyalty to him. Why should I not speak my mind? He's a joke. He will not allow us to help his kingdom. What king would do that? Did Isildur not write that the Ring would be an heirloom of his kingdom? If so, and he truly _is_ the king, then why did he give it to the Halfling? He is _not_ the king of Gondor! And if you continue with your foolishness masked as wisdom, then I will not follow you! Not anymore!"

Tallad stormed out of the room, fuming. Faramir sighed, before moving to follow, but as soon as he left the room, Damrod accosted him.

"Faramir, there's something you should know," he said breathlessly.

"Something else?" Faramir sighed wearily.

"Yes. Tallad was meant to tell you but I get the feeling he was somewhat distracted." Damrod paused for breath, before continuing frantically. "In the forest, we found a camp, surrounded by tracks. These were bigger tracks, and there were considerably more of them, than the prisoners could have made by themselves. There's something else in the forest. And that's not all."

Damrod pointed at a helmet on the floor – it was a hideous design with no concept of elegance, and emblazoned on the top was the sigil of the white hand.

"These were collected when some of our men ran into a scouting party. We killed most of the soldiers, but they were unlike anything I've ever seen before. They were like orcs, but huge, strong as well, and all carried this mark. And one f the... _things_... got away. I have no doubt that it made its way back to the rest of the army. Going by the size of the camp and the size of the scouting party, I'd say the army is larger than the rangers can hold back alone."

Faramir could not help but groan.

"It gets worse. The skirmish was very near here. They know where we are. Saruman's forces are coming here. They're on their way right now. And they're coming for them."

* * *

**A/N: Please review and tell me what you think. Since chapter 7 I've had a grand total of 4 reviews, which is why updates have been much slower than my usual update speed. I welcome constructive criticism, and I usually reply to signed reviews, so please, let me know what you think of this.**

**Also, thanks to the people who did review. It really does mean a lot. :)**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The Fellowship, unaware of what danger was fast approaching them, were surprised when Faramir entered once more, and their confusion only increased when he handed Aragorn a large bundle containing all their weapons.

"You have to leave. Quickly."

"Why?" Frodo asked, sensing the rising panic in Faramir. "What's going on?"

"I don't have time to explain. The important thing is that you leave – now. I care not where you go but you have to leave Ithillien. You will find your guide tied up in the room down at the end of the left corridor. You can leave him here if you so wish, but we will not protect him. The exit is at the end of the third corridor directly opposite this one. When you leave this place, you are facing north. I will make sure that none of my people try and stop you, you have my word on that. Good luck."

Faramir turned on his heel and left, leaving the Fellowship alone.

"What was that about?" Merry asked.

"Something's found us," Gimli explained. "I don't know how."

"What will we do?" Sam asked. "About stinker- Gollum, I mean."

"You know where I stand on the matter," Legolas said.

"Legolas, we all know what you'd like to do to him," Aragorn sighed exasperatedly. '2You don't need to remind us."

"I wasn't going to."

"Well, good."

"Would you two like to stop arguing for _five minutes?_" Gimli hissed at them. "We really don't have time right now."

"We should take him," Frodo said decisively. "We don't have any idea where we are, or where we are going without him."

Aragorn shrugged. He did not have time to argue the point.

He led the way out of the room, planning on recovering Gollum, when, turning around the corner with more speed than stealth, he collided with Tallad. The southern ranger stared at them incredulously.

"What are you doing out?" he asked aggressively. "How did you escape?"

He felt around his belt for his sword, but his hands only closed on air. Aragorn drew Anduril and pointed it at Tallad's throat, looking more like the king of Gondor than ever before – almost to the point where he had Tallad convinced.

"You will not touch us again, do you understand me?"

"The pretend-king pulling rank on me? How amusing. It takes more than mindless bloodshed to make a king, you know!"

"Oh, shut it," Legolas suddenly cut in, before punching Tallad on the nose. The punch itself wouldn't have knocked the man out, had it not been for the fact that it sent Tallad back into an empty torch bracket. His head slammed into the metal with such force that he curled up on the floor, unconscious.

By the time Tallad awoke, the Fellowship were in the forest.

* * *

The eight of them crashed through the trees, desperate to put as much space between themselves and the cave as was possible. There was only one emotion, a single feeling that was common in everyone's minds, that was screaming its presence – fear. They were running from an unknown enemy, without the faintest idea how far it was until they were well clear of the danger.

Merry tripped on the undergrowth, something which even the most sure-footed of the company had achieved, and fell over. Pausing in their running, over their panicked breaths, they heard the harsh cry of orcs nearby – too near for Aragorn's liking. He frantically pulled them into a nearby untidy ring of bushes around the base of a tree.

Not one of them dared make a sound as the voices approached. They all tried to control their panting, keeping it as quiet as possible. Aragorn was relieved that they'd had the sense to gag Gollum. The voices came so close that they could overhear the exact words that were being said.

"How are we going to find them? They could be anywhere!"

"They have been captured by the stupid whiteskins. We lay siege on their little cave, the whiteskins can't defend them, we swoop in and take the Halflings. And even if they've somehow escaped, which is impossible, they can't be far. They could even be hiding in this _tree!_"

The orc thrust his spear into the branches of the tree directly above them. The leaves fluttered down and one lodged itself in Sam's hair. Aragorn was so tempted to breathe a sigh of relief, but knew better. The orcs were so close that even a sigh would have been heard.

"Hmm," the orc continued. "I was wondering if something was up there. I suppose not."

The other orcs laughed, before moving off.

Merry gave a tiny sigh. "I thought we were as good as dead then," he whispered.

Aragorn looked at them. "We have to split up," he said. "We need to get out of this forest as quickly as possible. And we can't do that stealthily with a group of eight of us. Merry, Pippin, you go with Gimli, and take Gollum with you. Frodo, Sam, you're with Legolas and me."

"Aragorn, that has to be one of the stupidest plans I've ever heard!" Gimli hissed. "We all split up – and then what? How will we find each other again?"

"We meet at the camp we were taken from," Aragorn answered. "If we don't make it there by sundown, the rest of us will assume the worst and carry on."

Gimli looked at Aragorn, still not entirely satisfied, but nodded nonetheless. They didn't have a choice at this point.

* * *

"Where are they? _Where are they?_"

Tallad stormed into the room where Faramir stood with the other rangers. When Faramir refused to give him an answer, Tallad guessed what had happened.

"You let them go, didn't you? That's why they had their weapons!"

Faramir nodded.

"You fool, Faramir..." Tallad said. "Without that Ring, we don't stand a hope of defeating them now!"

"Yes, we do, if we all stand united. Together, we might just beat these invaders-"

"No we won't!" Tallad screamed. "We don't have a hope! We did! I've said it before and I'll say it again – that Ring could save us! And you just let it go!"

"NO IT COULDN'T!" Faramir thundered. "It would kill us. We would lose this fight, and our lives in the process! We cannot master it!"

"_You_ cannot master it," Tallad said. "But a stronger mind could."

"Oh, for goodness' _sake!_" Faramir yelled. "This is the end! Now is the time that the strength of your loyalty is tested! Do you not remember the vows we took when we first came to Ithillien? Do they mean _nothing?_ So choose – your captain, your home, your honour, or the vague chance of a shadow of power?"

Tallad stared at Faramir. "Honour is worthless," he spat. "Just like you. And as for my home... well, I am choosing it. The Ring will save us. But you... you won't. You are not my captain."

Tallad walked towards the door, and was pleased to find a young ranger follow him. Faramir stared at the man, who was barely out of adolescence, with shock and horror.

"Who else is with him?" Faramir asked, his anger finally breaking loose. "Well? Go on, see if I care if you get yourselves slaughtered!"

There was a pause, before several more men walked over to Tallad, leaving those loyal to Faramir in the minority.

Tallad smiled grimly back. "It looks like you're the one who's going to be slaughtered, Faramir," he said.

The large band of men filed out of the door behind Tallad. Faramir was left, spluttering indignantly, as he watched several of his friends leave, knowing this was likely to be the last time he ever saw them.

The hunt was on.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Gimli struggled to force his way through the thick undergrowth at any sort of speed, and struggled even more to do so stealthily. Merry and Pippin followed him, and due to the problem involving Gollum being slow and liable to draw any unfriendly eyes directly towards them, Gimli had hauled Gollum over his shoulder.

There were harsh cries echoing on all sides, and Gimli's ears were not sensitive enough to deduce how close they were.

They had run so fast in a direction that Gimli had no idea of, that the dwarf was suddenly confronted with the overwhelming fact that he had no idea where he was going. He couldn't use the sun for guidance, as there was a thick layer of low, dense cloud. He stopped for a brief minute.

"How – far – are – we?" Merry panted, as he finally caught up. Gimli may not have been the lightest runner of the group, but he hadn't been lying when he had claimed that dwarves were natural sprinters.

"I... don't know," Gimli confessed. "I don't know where we're going."

"_What!?_" Pippin gasped, suddenly looking that much more terrified.

"It was all very well for Aragorn to say 'meet us back here,' but it's not exactly easy to find!" Gimli hissed.

"So that's it then?" Merry asked, looking so despairing that Gimli felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. "We're done for?"

Gimli looked at the crestfallen faces of the hobbits, and felt the responsibility on his shoulders. He was not a natural leader – far from it, he had never led anything in his life, but he had sworn an oath at the start of this quest, not to another, but to himself, to do everything in his power to protect the young hobbits. He was damned if he was going to break that now.

"Don't worry, I'll-"

"THERE THEY ARE!"

They had stood still for too long, and a large group of orcs had suddenly spotted them.

"Run!" Gimli yelled at the hobbits.

He didn't need to wait to see if they obeyed.

-:-

Frodo, Sam, Aragorn and Legolas weren't faring much better. They had been forced to hide in a tree directly above where a small group of orcs were waiting for reinforcements. At that point, there were only about five or six, and with surprise on their side they could have come out better in a fight, but they had overheard that the rest of their 'group' were not that far away and could arrive at any minute, and they couldn't risk the possibility of being outnumbered ten to one. However, the bright side was that they hadn't been discovered – yet.

"Where _are_ they?" one of the orcs snapped impatiently. "While we're busy waiting for the rest of those idiotic swine, because those cowards are scared of taking on a group of nine mismatched whiteskins on by themselves, they could be leaving the forest, while we're running around after nothing!"

"Our orders were to wait here," another growled back. "And you forget that just because there are nine of _them_, there are rangers of Gondor nearby. They pose more of a threat than our quarry."

"But I'm so _bored!_" the first one cried out exasperatedly. "We've been tracking them since they left that elf realm, and I just want the bastards dead at my feet!"

Aragorn had to mask his groan. Whatever hope they had in secrecy was gone. If Saruman had known of their quest since they had left Lothlórien, then he would surely have alerted Sauron, meaning that their passage into Mordor was likely to be watched. And it would be hard to enter Mordor with any stealth with a company of an unknown size of orcs hot on their heels. This had to end – tonight.

He glanced over at the others and caught the significant look that Legolas shot him, meaning that the elf had also realised what had to happen. But then, beyond Legolas' shoulder, in the distance, he saw something that made his heart stop.

Getting out of the forest alive was about to become much more difficult.

-:-

Merry staggered, gasping for breath, into a clearing, not far behind Gimli.

"I- cannot- run- any- more..." Pippin gasped from right behind him.

Gimli looked around for some vague form of hiding place.

"Trees!" he said decisively. "Climb a tree, and stay very still! Whatever you do, wait for my signal before you move."

Merry and Pippin both elected to get into a large oak tree, and Gimli waited until they were concealed before climbing himself. They waited about a minute before the orcs emerged, and not for the first time, Gimli found himself thanking the Lady of Lothlórien for the cloaks concealing them from unfriendly eyes. He remembered the winged messenger, and only hoped they proved as effective now as they had then.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" one of them called, in a feeble imitation of a sing-song voice.

"Yeah, come on, you little Halflings!" another jeered. "We promise not to hurt you!"

"We know you're here," the first continued, who was evidently the leader, its voice going soft. "Why don't you save us the trouble of finding you by showing yourselves now? You never know, we might _even_ be persuaded to save your dwarf-friend."

Several of the orcs shot confused looks at the leader, and the only other one who had spoken went up and whispered something. Merry saw the leader shake its head in response.

"We've got you surrounded!" laughed a third orc. "You can't escape, so come down now! Or else we might just forget our orders!"

This triggered the rest of the orcs to start laughing, but it soon faded away as doubt replaced mirth on many of the orcs' faces. One walked up to the leader.

"Are you sure they're here?" it asked.

"Oh, they're here," the leader said. "We would know if they so much as moved. They're just very good at hiding. But no matter. We'll force them from their hiding place. Cover the perimeter with dried wood and leaves. Anything that will catch easily."

"Are we going to-"

"Yes. Because unless they want to go down with the forest then they'll have to move. And when they do, we'll be ready. They won't be able to escape."

The orcs began to laugh again, causing Gimli to really start worrying. However, it took a few minutes for him to realise the orcs' plan.

While the dead foliage was being arranged around the edge of the clearing, the leader watched as the orcs struck something together. When the orcs drew away, he saw clearly what their plan was. The dead leaves and twigs had caught fire, and the fire was spreading quickly. It only took a few seconds before the fire had completely surrounded them, trapping them like rats.

The orcs were going to smoke them out.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I'm sorry, everybody. I'm really, **_**really**_** sorry...**

* * *

Chapter 16

Flames began to creep up the trees. Gimli knew they had to move soon, or else they would all go up I smoke.

"Listen to me," he hissed at the hobbits. They opened their mouths in protest. "No, listen. We are going to have to make a move. This tree may be within their trap, but it's close to others. Take Gollum, and jump to one of them, it's not that far. Climb down, and run. Do not look back. I can buy you time by keeping the orcs focused on me. Use that time to get as far away from the fire as you can. Find the others. We aren't far from where we'll meet them, it's just to the north."

"We're not leaving you behind," Pippin immediately stated, in a tone that would not be swayed by any noble self-sacrificing claim. He was tired of being treated like a child, with everyone risking their lives to save his.

"Look, Pippin, it is _essential_ that you get Gollum to the others. He is our only chance of getting into Mordor undetected. Now go."

The flames began to lick at the lower branches.

"_Quickly!_" Gimli hissed, bundling them towards the other trees.

Merry hauled Gollum over his shoulder, and shut his eyes, his heart in his mouth, before leaping, his arm outstretched, over the flames. Pippin, torn between his loyalties to Gimli and his cousin, reluctantly followed.

"THEY'RE UP THERE!" screamed one of the orcs.

Merry breathed again as he caught one of the neighbouring tree's branches, hanging there one-handed for a second before hauling himself up. However, he barely had time to regain his footing before Pippin leapt prematurely, as the branch he had just jumped from cracked and fell, the structure weakened by the fire.

Pippin's hands scraped the branches, but he couldn't get a decent hold. He fell, and would have ended up in the flames had it not been for Merry catching his hand at the last second. Using Gollum's weight to counter-balance Pippin's, Merry hauled his cousin up onto the branch. Both hobbits collapsed, panting, against the bowel of the tree, relieved and surprised to be virtually unscathed.

But there was no time for them to rest – true, they'd made it to the edge of the circle, but they had to jump over the wall of fire that stood between them and relative safety.

Once again, Merry went first, taking Gollum with him. He was much more careless than he would have otherwise been, as the base of the tree was already alight. His heart stopped as his foot slipped, but Pippin grabbed his shoulders and steadied him.

Finally, after a few tense seconds, they made it to the other side of the tree. The bad news was that the fire had spread, giving them next to no space to jump to the ground. Merry's initial plan had been to use the height of the tree to give them enough leeway to clear the fire, land on the ground, and run to safety, but the spreading fire had made that nearly impossible. However, he had a mission, and he was damned if he was going to pass up even the smallest chance of succeeding.

He shut his eyes, ran to the edge of the branch, and jumped.

-:-

Aragorn silently motioned to the giant column of smoke rising not far to the east. Legolas took one look at it, before giving Aragorn a querying look as he motioned to draw an arrow from his quiver.

Aragorn frantically shook his head.

"If we do that, then we bring Saruman's entire army down on us," Aragorn breathed. "What will you do when we're seriously outnumbered?"

"Aragorn, that fire is going to spread," Legolas hissed back. "And knowing our luck, it will spread towards us. If we wait then there's every chance they will discover us, and we'll probably end up getting trapped by the fire. Their reinforcements aren't here yet. If we attack now, then we'll have surprise on our side, and we'll probably win."

"Legolas, there are two of us."

"Excuse me!" hissed Frodo indignantly. "What are we, then? Two sacks of potatoes?"

"Sorry, four of us."

"Compared to five of them, plus a lookout. With surprise, we can take them easily."

As if on cue, the lookout suddenly emerged, followed by a large group of orcs that none of them felt the need to count.

"Look who finally decided to show up," announced the lookout sarcastically, before gesturing to the leader of the newcomers.

"What are you still doing here?" hissed the leader of the significantly more dominating band of orcs to the smaller scouting party. "Have you not _seen_ the smoke? Some of our boys have discovered the bastards and you're sitting here lazing about like sloths! Get over there right now!"

"You were the one who wanted us to wait for you," the leader of the scouting party retorted indignantly. "What's your problem?"

"I said – _now!_"

The scouting party gave furious glares to the rest of the orcs, before following the other orcs as they filed away from the tree where half the Fellowship were hiding. They were just climbing down as the last ones were disappearing into the forest when a new voice – human this time, and all too familiar, rang out from behind them.

"THEY'RE JUST UP AHEAD!" the voice of Tallad rang out throughout the forest. "THERE, CLIMBING DOWN FROM THAT TREE!"

-:-

Merry slammed into the ground with such force that he rolled over to prevent his body from shattering upon impact. When he finally came to a halt, he opened his eyes, relieved that he could still perform such a simple action. It was hard to believe that all that had happened in the space of a minute. He got up, gesturing to Pippin, but his cousin's attention was elsewhere.

Gimli had leapt with a cry from the first tree as it fell. He landed right in the centre of the astonished orcs, whose attention had been captured by Merry and Pippin's desperate flight. Before any of them had a chance to register the arrival of this newcomer, Gimli had swung his axe and taken the head off the nearest one to him.

He ducked a blow that was aimed at his head, before embedding his axe in the perpetrator's chest, before swinging round, corpse and all, using the body to intercept a blow aimed at his chest. He was in his element, and these orcs could not stand a chance.

He hadn't yet thought how he was going to get out, but his main priority was to ensure that no orcs followed as Merry and Pippin fled – something that Pippin was finding hard to do. The hobbit stood, transfixed by the sight of Gimli's fight, completely oblivious to his own plight. He gazed, fascinated, as Gimli, having made a corpse of the leader, threw it into another. Pippin's heart jolted as one came from behind and raised its sword high above his head, but he needn't have worried, as Gimli spun around and blocked the blow, throwing the orc back with such force it staggered into the fire.

Merry waved with one hand frantically, trying in vain to catch Pippin's attention. If he didn't jump soon, the branch was going to break and he would fall into the flames below.

But Pippin continued to stare at Gimli's fight.

"Pip!" Merry screamed hoarsely, unable to breathe properly through the smoke. It was now or never.

But Pippin couldn't hear Merry over the roar of the fire. He continued to stare, and waited too long.

His attention was brought back to his own situation by a crack coming from beneath him. He was astonished to realise how much the flames had risen up the tree. He saw Merry on the floor below, who looked relieved that Pippin was paying attention to him. It was hard to see him through all the smoke.

He began to run to the edge of the branch, but before he could jump from it, the branch cracked. He pushed himself away from it at the last second...

But it wasn't quite enough. He hit the ground on his back, with his feet in the fire. He let out a cry that snagged Gimli's attention from the fight for a second too long.

-:-

Tallad's men by themselves would not have posed that much of a problem, but unfortunately, the shout carried to the orcs. Those that heard turned around and, upon seeing those who they had left to hunt, immediately raised the alarm. The horde began to run towards them.

Legolas drew his bow and shot the foremost orc in the throat, but as it fell it was instantly replaced by six more. But that was the only shot he could get out before the horde were upon them.

Aragorn parried as one of the swords targeted his neck, throwing the orc back into the horde, but it didn't take long before the four of them were completely surrounded. Killing one would only mean that it was replaced by another, and there was only so much that four of them could do. However, he had no choice in the matter, so he plunged into the fray with a cry.

He sliced open an orc's throat, splashing himself and a few others in the vicinity with black blood, before thrusting Anduril into a second orc's chest. Drawing the sword out, he elbowed one behind him in the stomach, before spinning around and decapitating it.

It was immediately replaced by another, who attacked him with blow after blow, which he blocked, forcing him to go on the defensive. He staggered back at the force of the fight, and was forced to block the swipes much too close to his chest for his liking. With his back against a tree, he ducked under the final slash, and the orc's sword became embedded in the trunk. He spun out from underneath the orc, before stabbing it in the back.

But it was too tight to fight properly here. There were too many orcs milling around the place, and it didn't help matters when a moment later Tallad's men joined the chaos.

Tallad almost instantly lunged for Frodo, only for his path to be blocked by an orc. Aragorn watched out of his peripheral vision as Tallad slammed his sword into the orc's forehead, only for it to be replaced by another. Tallad ducked the blow aimed at his head, only to draw his sword up the centre of the orc's torso, cutting it in half. Watching Tallad kill the foul creatures of Sauron gave Aragorn an idea.

"Frodo!" Aragorn hissed, catching the hobbit's attention. "Get Sam and run!"

It was a gamble, but he could only hope it paid off.

With Tallad's attention elsewhere, Frodo had very little trouble escaping his sight. The orcs were fighting the rangers over him, but from the attention they paid him as he ran through the chaos, nobody would have guessed it. At least, until Sam suddenly tripped.

Frodo stopped, hurrying back to his friend. He helped Sam to his feet before noticing, with a dawning sense of horror, the giant slash across his abdomen. Suddenly a hand was placed on Frodo's shoulder, causing him to jump.

"You thought I didn't notice your little flight?" Tallad whispered in his ear. "You were wrong. Now-"

Something slammed into Tallad's side, and it took a second for Frodo to realise that it was the same man who had let them escape the ranger's camp.

"What part of 'let them go' do you have difficulty understanding?" Faramir yelled, as he got to his feet, his sword pointed to Tallad's throat.

Frodo looked up at Faramir, trying to convey the overwhelming sense of gratitude he was feeling towards the captain in a single look.

"Run, Frodo," Faramir said. "Run."

Frodo didn't need telling twice. Slipping one arm around Sam, the two hobbits ran from the battle, vanishing into the darkening wood.

-:-

All he could feel was fire. It had entered his vision, blinding him to all except its bright orange blaze. He was oblivious except to the intense heat engulfing his leg. He was barely aware that he was screaming, he couldn't hear it over the roar of the flames.

Strong hands suddenly grasped his shoulders, pulling him backwards out of the flames, but the fire stayed with him. It still surrounded his leg, still drowned him in pain, he was unaware of being pulled backwards, or of his saviour. He didn't realise he'd stopped screaming, he was absolutely exhausted. His lungs were too filled with smoke, he couldn't breathe, he was suffocating...

Suddenly the burning stopped. It was replaced by cold water running over his leg, and Pippin suddenly noticed everything.

Merry was standing over him, holding his canteen over his leg. It took Pippin a second to realise that Merry had emptied his water supply over his leg to put out the fire.

But before he could register how grateful he was, he heard a different shout.

Gimli's attention had been taken away by the sound of Pippin's screams. He couldn't help but wonder what on earth had happened to cause the hobbit to go through that much anguish.

His attention was brought back to his own position by a sudden pain flaring up in his arm. An orc had slashed his arm open at a weak point in his armour, and the pain that shot through him was enough to make him drop his axe.

He was kicked over, and landed, sprawled in the dirt. He reached out for his axe, but it was kicked out of his reach. He was suddenly pulled upright, onto his knees, his head pulled back, presenting his throat to the orc standing in front of him.

Pippin had seen this all through the smoke, and, forgetting the pain he was in, suddenly stood up, realising what was about to happen. But he couldn't let it, he had to stop it from happening. He didn't know how, but he had to prevent what was about to occur.

Pain shot up his leg as he put weight on his right foot. This had been the one most badly burnt in the flames, but he ignored it, he had to get to Gimli...

Merry grabbed his cousin around the chest, pulling Pippin back. He, too, didn't want to leave Gimli to his fate, but he had always been more rational than his cousin, and knew that there was nothing they could do.

"No, Pip-"

"Merry, we can't just _leave _him!" Pippin screamed. "He risked his life to save ours!"

"We have to find the others!"

The orc raised its sword above Gimli's head.

"NO! GIMLI! NO!" Pippin screamed as he struggled against Merry's hold.

"There's nothing we can do, Pip."

For a second, Gimli's eyes met with Pippin's, and he mouthed one word.

"Run."

The sword suddenly slammed into the dwarf's throat, driving itself down lower and lower, until the hilt was level with Gimi's mouth.

"NO!"

The scream was so deafening, so full of anguish, guilt, and sadness, that Merry nearly let go of Pippin. Tears were streaming down both hobbits' faces, and Merry had to drag Pippin away. But Pippin had lost the will to fight – in fact, he had lost the will to do anything at all, except cry. The sight of Gimli's corpse falling sideways as the orc's sword was removed from his neck was replaying itself over and over again in front of Pippin's eyes, causing him more pain than the fire that had shot up his leg less than a minute before.

Merry grabbed Gollum by the neck and, dragging Pippin, who was fighting to get back to Gimli, fled from the scene, unable to keep the tears at bay anymore.

* * *

**A/N: ...**

**...Please don't kill me.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Ok, sorry about the long(ish) wait for this chapter, I've been planning this chapter for a long time and I wasn't happy with several parts so I changed it. Having said that, I'm still not happy with several parts, but every time I try and change it, it seems worse than it was before, so I'm going to quit while I'm ahead. Anyhoo, enjoy!**

Chapter 17

Frodo and Sam staggered up the hill into the clearing, before Frodo let Sam fall onto a rock. It seemed like they'd been walking for days, but in reality they'd only been walking for about half an hour. However, from their vantage point, they looked out over the forest.

Where had once stood a beautiful forest, the last time they had sat in that clearing, everything now burnt. The fire had lost control and had spread throughout the forest. It made Frodo realise the power of the Ring, and how it could only destroy – this was what the whole world would be like if Sauron reclaimed the Ring.

"And our friends are out there," Sam said softly, guessing what Frodo was thinking.

Frodo was sparked out of his reverie, remembering what had happened to Sam. "Are you alright?"

"Well, I can't honestly say I've had worse," Sam replied, wincing, "but I reckon I'll live. I'll get Strider to look over it when he comes."

"_If_ he comes," Frodo whispered.

"He'll come. We said we'd meet here. I have faith in him."

"I don't doubt his strength, or his loyalty, or anything about _him_," Frodo began. "But what can one man do against all this?"

"You're one man," Sam pointed out. "Well, _hobbit_ at least. And you carry the ace in this war."

Frodo turned away from the burning forest, before picking up his bag and walking to the edge of the clearing.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sam called after him.

"To Mordor," Frodo called back, frustrated. People were trying to stop him at every turn, delay him, making decisions he should be making, and it was really getting on his nerves. This task was appointed to _him_ – not Aragorn, not Sam, not anybody else but him.

"And how are we going to get in?" Sam asked. "We should at least wait for the others."

"What _'others'_?" Frodo snapped. "What _'we'_? The others are all probably dead, and-"

"We don't know that for certain," Sam said patiently. "We said we'd meet them here at sundown, and I guess we've got about half an hour before that happens. But we should at least wait until then."

Frodo stopped, looking at Sam reluctantly.

"We can't get into Mordor without a guide," Sam reasoned.

Frodo glanced at the road ahead, but there was too much truth in Sam's words to ignore. Throwing down his bag where he stood, he sat down next to Sam.

They only had to wait about five minutes before Aragorn and Legolas came sprinting out of the forest, both looking somewhat dishevelled, their faces blackened with the smoke.

"Do you think we were followed?" Aragorn asked.

"No, the rangers and the orcs were all too busy killing each other to notice us leave," Legolas answered, glancing over his shoulder. "And what in all Arda happened to you, Sam?"

"Escape went wrong," Sam explained. "Got myself hit by a flying sword."

"Frodo, heat some water," Aragorn ordered. "And Legolas, keep watch. I don't want to end up with people finding us again."

With that, he began searching in his bag, looking for anything and everything that might help him.

"What are you looking for?" Sam asked.

"Athelas, bandages, cloths... Hold on," his eyes lit up as his fingers touched something, but when he pulled it out it was only _lembas_. "No, not that..."

"Has there been any sign of the others?" Legolas asked.

Sam shook his head. "We haven't exactly been here long, they could still be out there."

"Or they could be dead," Frodo muttered, as he struck his flint together. "How much water do you think you'll need?"

"Enough to boil the athelas in," Aragorn replied, getting more and more frustrated as he continued to fail to find what he was looking for.

"As you can see, Mister Frodo has become very optimistic," Sam muttered under his breath.

"Look around you, Sam!" Frodo yelled. "You can see with your own eyes the power of destruction that Sauron has, and how can we survive that? What can we do against it? What can _any_ of us do to prevent him from taking Middle Earth?"

"Frodo, stop it," Legolas warned.

"We can't survive this, _nobody_ can!"

"Mister Frodo, you don't know what you are saying!" Sam said desperately, but Frodo ignored him, just as he had ignored Legolas.

"They're probably already dead-"

"_Nevertheless_," Aragorn cut across, having finally retrieved the athelas from the bottom of his bag, and Frodo fell silent at the tone. "We promised we would wait for them here until sunset. That time is not yet here, and we need Gollum in order to get into Mordor. I don't know where the entrance to this pass is."

"Well, they'd better hurry up," Legolas snapped, trying to peer through the trees.

Aragorn threw the athelas into the water that Frodo had just boiled, before soaking a cloth in it and wiping down the gash across Sam's abdomen. He had been doing so for less than a minute when they heard a snap in the trees.

"What was that?" Frodo asked, suddenly alert.

Aragorn shrugged. "It might be the others," he suggested, looking pointedly at Legolas.

"Or it might be worse," Legolas answered, picking up the hint and disappearing into the trees, his bow in his hand and an arrow fitted.

He was careful not to make a sound, just in case it was a couple of stray orcs or one of Tallad's men. He crept through the undergrowth carefully. The fire hadn't yet made it to this part of the forest, but that didn't mean to say it was entirely untouched by Saruman's destruction.

Something moved in the trees. Legolas quickened his pace, chasing after it with less stealth than he had previously been employing. He pushed aside a branch, raised his bow and –

"DON'T SHOOT!"

Letting out the breath that he hadn't realised he had been holding, he quickly stowed away his bow at the sight of Merry holding Pippin up with one hand, while keeping the other firmly on the scruff of Gollum's neck.

"What happened?" Legolas asked, looking at Pippin's burnt leg while dreading the answer. The skin was red and blistered, and in some places the skin had ruptured completely revealing angry flesh that was sending blood all down his ankle.

"Everything just went so wrong," Merry said, sounding as though he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. "I mean, Pippin got caught in the fire, and we got lost, and..."

He stopped suddenly, taking several very quick, very shallow breaths.

"Alright," Legolas said, deciding not to press the issue. "We need to get Pippin back to the camp. Aragorn's there with Frodo and Sam, it's going to be ok."

Merry looked at Legolas, as though he longed for the last few words of Legolas had said to be true but couldn't quite believe him. Nonetheless, he allowed the elf to pick up Pippin and followed him back to the camp.

The other half of the Fellowship looked up as Merry, Pippin and Legolas entered. At the sight of Pippin's burnt leg, Sam almost forgot his own pain – the shallow gash seemed little more than a cut or a graze compared to the injuries that his friend had sustained.

Aragorn suddenly got up, forgetting about Sam, and took Pippin from Legolas' arms. He sat the hobbit down on the floor, leaning against a rock, and started to work on soothing, cleaning and binding his ankle.

Legolas, however, looked at Merry.

"Where's Gimli?"

Merry was surprised this question hadn't come earlier, but that still didn't make answering it any easier. He couldn't figure out how to answer it – Gimli was probably the closest person to Legolas in the Fellowship, and he had seen Legolas' temper when confronted with a loss. Besides that, Merry himself was struggling to come to terms with what had happened in the forest.

Some of this must have shown on his face, for Legolas' expression suddenly became one of dread as he pressed the issue.

"Merry... what happened to Gimli?"

Merry raised his head and met the elf's penetrating blue stare. He longed to say something, preferably something about how the dwarf had saved them, but his voice seemed to be stuck, and he couldn't form words. Without breaking the stare, Merry gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of the head.

"NO!"

The shout came from Sam, who stared wildly at Merry, his eyes begging for this to be some sort of sick joke.

"He tried to save us," Merry said, his voice working again, although it was thickened by the oncoming wave of tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "He told us to run... and he was going to buy us time..."

Legolas, for his part, had kept his gaze fixed on the same point in space, just in front of where Merry's eyes had been. He remembered feeling something similar to this when he had just witnessed Gandalf fall into the abyss in Moria, but how could that feeling be the same as this, when this was so much stronger? But then his eyes fell on something behind Merry.

Without a word to anyone, he walked straight past Merry, without even acknowledging that the hobbit was there.

Merry looked at the elf as he walked past.

"There was nothing we could do," he weakly protested.

Legolas showed no sign that he had even heard him. He continued to walk away, and for one second Merry thought that Legolas was actually going to leave them. He stopped, however, level with Gollum, who was cowering behind a rock.

He suddenly let out a scream, and aimed a kick at Gollum. Gollum fell back with an indignant noise, as Legolas slammed his fist into his face.

"This is all _your_ fault!" Legolas yelled, as he landed another punch in Gollum's stomach.

Aragorn turned away from where he was tending to Pippin, alarmed, and rushed over to where Legolas continued to pound Gollum with every ounce of strength left in him. Aragorn struggled to pull him away, but succeeded in throwing him back far enough so he could interpose himself between Legolas and Gollum.

"That is _enough!_" Aragorn yelled. "What on earth is wrong with you?"

"That _thing_ is responsible for all this!" Legolas gestured to the burning forest behind him.

"Legolas, that's ridiculous," Aragorn snapped.

"Really?" Legolas snapped sarcastically. "Would they have found us if _that_ hadn't left us? How do we know what he got up to when he was gone? What if-"

"Legolas, you're forcing facts to fit into your suspicion of Gollum!" Aragorn shouted over Legolas' continued tirade. "What would benefit him from going to the orcs?"

Legolas opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out.

"You know what I think?" Aragorn continued. "I think that you're blinded by your prejudice of him. You resent him so much that you blame him for everything that goes wrong!"

"I blame him for the things that go wrong because of him, and this is one of them!"

"_No it isn't!_" Aragorn yelled exasperatedly. "You're fitting him up for a crime he didn't commit! Is this what you did when your brother died?"

As soon as he had said this, he realised that he'd crossed a line. The rage in Legolas' face intensified until it reached a point where Aragorn actually feared the elf standing before him.

"_Don't_... even think about my brother like that!" he hissed, absolutely furious. "You think that my brother died because of some fault of his own? He _died_ because of that monster that you seem to trust! He's already caused the death of one of our number, and he _will_ kill again! You mark my words, this isn't over. No, this is just the beginning! And if you can't see that, I don't even know why I'm following you!"

With that, he stormed past Aragorn with every intention of leaving. Aragorn briefly debated trying to stop him, but decided to let him go. As the pale head vanished into the woods, now lit only by the moon and the orange glow of the fire below them, Aragorn finally noticed the looks of varying fear on the hobbits' faces.

"Give him time to calm down," Aragorn said reassuringly. "He doesn't mean that. When he's calmed down, he'll see sense."

"Do you really believe that?" Frodo asked.

Aragorn didn't need to voice the doubt he felt in order to convey his answer to the Ringbearer.

* * *

Not far away, further to the north, two other figures stood watching the fire.

"The Ring would not have saved Gondor," the shorter, slighter figure said, noticing the expression of sadness on the other's face.

The other shook his head, understanding. "The Ring caused this."

There was a minute of silence, before the taller figure spoke again.

"We have to catch up to the others. We have to make sure they succeed. If we don't, then..."

The shorter figure nodded. No more needed to be said. The other man finally understood.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Ok so I'm really sorry about the delay for this chapter – once again I've been having technical difficulties and while I'm not entirely sure what they were, they seem to have sorted themselves out but Word is now working again so here, have a new chapter. It's sort of a filler but it does contain some important character development and it basically solves the problem I had of I-had-point-A-and-point-B-but-no-idea-how-to-get-from-one-to-the-other, so enjoy, and the next chapter will be up sooner, I promise.**

Chapter 18

Pippin didn't want to shut his eyes, dreading what he'd see. The endless flames that surrounded him, the twisted faces of orcs as they chased him, or worst of all, the sword plunged deep into Gimli's neck. He could still recall with pinpoint clarity the way the blood had splashed as the dwarf had fallen sideways...

No. He wouldn't think about that. Not now, not ever.

The pain in his leg was numbed somewhat by the emotional turmoil that was going on in his mind. It was as though there was only so much pain that his brain could take, so it seemed to block out parts, deluding him into thinking it wasn't quite as painful as it should be. But he wished that his brain would perhaps numb the guilt he was feeling.

Merry had told the others that they couldn't have done anything. But he was wrong. They could have gone back – they could have fought alongside Gimli, they could have helped, they could have at the very least shared in whatever fate befell him. Maybe if they had, they could have helped, and maybe even have won the fight. Everyone was constantly telling them that he couldn't handle it, underestimating his abilities, but how could they ever _know_ what he was capable of when they hadn't ever given him a chance to see for himself? He knew better than to think that Gimli's death would have opened their eyes to this.

He sat up, taking stock of his surroundings. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed Aragorn offer to take the watch as the others fell silent around him. Even as he watched, he saw Aragorn rub his eyes weakly – though out of exhaustion or grief he couldn't tell. He knew that the ranger was shaken after his argument with Legolas, and was only keeping watch to see whether the latter would return. Gimli had ever been the peacemaker between the two and with him gone, Pippin knew that the disputes would only get worse. The night's events had been proof of that.

He weakly pushed back his blanket and hobbled over to where Aragorn sat.

"Are you ok?" Pippin asked.

Aragorn jolted at the sound, alarmed by the hobbit's voice. "Oh, I'm – er... I'm fine. More importantly, how are you? How's your leg?"

Pippin shrugged, before sitting down next to Aragorn. Both their gazes seemed somehow drawn to the sleeping figure of Gollum. Out of kindness, Aragorn had removed his gag, and so he was sleeping fitfully on a rock, muttering incomprehensible words under his breath. It said quite a lot that the words 'my precious' had not passed his lips in his subconscious state.

"It just makes me wonder..." Aragorn thought aloud. "Maybe... Maybe we were wrong about him. Maybe Legolas completely distorted the truth about his captivity in Mirkwood... Like he did tonight... Maybe he's not as evil as we thought..."

"Maybe we just need to give him a chance," Pippin finished the thought.

There was a moment of utter silence, in which Pippin chanced a glance at Aragorn's face. He was alarmed to see tears well up in the ranger's eyes.

"Strider, are you alright?"

"I'd make a terrible king..." the ranger gasped out. "Boromir was right. I let my own judgement of somebody be clouded by distorted words of others, forcing somebody to endure constant unfounded suspicion and ridicule, and for that I believe our company shall suffer. I should never have let Legolas influence me like that."

"I'm sorry, Strider."

The pair lapsed back into silence, listening to the soft breathing of their companions as they lay in troubled sleep. It was a while before either spoke again.

"If you want to go to sleep, I'm happy to keep watch," Pippin finally said.

"I don't think that my watch is quite over yet," Aragorn replied, smiling faintly. "I wouldn't want to make you stay up on my account."

"It's not exactly trouble," Pippin responded, slightly more harshly than he meant to – in his eyes, it was this protective behaviour that had led to the death of Gimli, and he was damned if he wasn't going to stop them constantly fussing over him. "Let's be honest, I'm not going to get much sleep tonight, and I'd rather do something _useful_ than lie in bed trying not to face my nightmares."

Aragorn looked mildly take aback by the response he got, but nonetheless nodded, before heading back to where his pack lay. It took several minutes before his soft snores mingled with that of the rest of the group.

For a couple of hours next to nothing happened. The stillness was absolute, so pressing that Pippin found himself jolting at every unexpected sound, every movement he caught sight of with his peripheral vision. It was as though the world was waiting for what was going to happen next.

-:-

He was hardly sleeping well. In truth he hadn't slept at all since he had been captured by the Fellowship. However, the brutal attack he had received at the hands of the elf had done two very good things. One – it had cemented the belief amongst the group that the only person who openly doubted him and who posed a real threat to his life was deluded, violent and could not be trusted, and two – it had caused the rest of them to remove any bonds from his wrists and stop constantly gagging him. He was pleased that they had finally decided to trust him enough to run away – as though he would leave the Ring for a long period of time to go where, exactly? The Ring was his life – that much he was sure of. It tormented him, it had abandoned him to this constant obsession, prolonging his life only so he could be tortured by the loss, and yet he still longed for it back. It was past desire, it was need.

He suddenly came to his senses, alarmed. He had to get it back. It was so close, it was calling to him...

But if he took it now, then surely the Baggins would notice, and raise the alarm, and he'd either be killed, or else under such constant supervision he wouldn't be able to breathe if they didn't want him to. No, this had to be done delicately...

He barely noticed the other Halfling speak.

"Are you all right?"

He nodded, before crawling over. This Halfling was the only person in the group who had treated him decently, who had spoken to him as an equal.

"Yes, precious..."

"You're doing better than me, then," Pippin said. "Are you hungry? I haven't seen you eat in days."

"Yes, precious... Gollum is very hungry... We're practically starving..."

Pippin smiled, before hunting around inside his bag, looking for anything even vaguely edible. He himself was starting to feel the uncomfortable pangs associated with a missed meal – everyone having lost their appetites very quickly after he and Merry had returned.

"What's it got in there, precious? Fish?"

Pippin snorted. "I wish. I'd love something like that, but it wouldn't last. No, I'm afraid all I've got is..."

He pulled out a rather battered mallorn leaf wrapped around something he was really beginning to get rather sick of.

"..._Lembas._"

He unwrapped it, found it pre-broken, and handed the smallest fragment to Gollum.

"Try that, and if you like it, you can have some more."

Gollum, with a greedy expression on his face, took it, only for his features to morph into an expression of deep disgust as he touched it, and let it fall to the ground.

"Eurgh! It's nasty, elvish... it tries to poison us!"

Pippin glanced amusedly at Gollum, before shrugging and picking the fragment up off the floor. Good food, after all, could not be wasted.

"It's hardly poison, and I'm afraid that I only have that, so unless you want to starve, you should probably have some."

He placed some on the rock, but Gollum simply gave it a furtive glance before walking around to the other side of the rock Pippin sat on. Pippin simply shrugged, before picking it up and tossing it in his mouth. The happiness that flared up inside him at that brief moment of amusement was almost immediately eclipsed by the guilt he still felt that chose _that_ moment to make itself known. He sighed.

"It's been a long day, Gollum," Pippin started. "A really, _really_ long and horrible day. I just... I still cannot come to terms with it. Gimli... gone... It just doesn't seem real. And Merry's just defending himself, saying that there's nothing that we could have done."

Had he said this earlier that day, he would have winced at the harsh tone that took to his voice. However, his feelings towards his cousin were less than friendly now.

"I _wish_ that the others wouldn't constantly underestimate us. We could have gone back and helped him. All I want is a chance to prove myself. Prove that I don't need constant supervision. I joined this quest so that I could help Frodo, but they're not letting me, making out that I'm more of a hindrance than an aid. I could _be_ somebody."

If Pippin had stopped there then maybe what happened afterwards could have been avoided, but telling another about his problems was like draining the poison from a wound, and he continued, determined to get all his fears and doubts out.

"Maybe all this could have been avoided. Maybe Aragorn isn't as good a leader as everyone seems to think. He constantly wars with Legolas, and he made the wrong choice today. We... we shouldn't have split up. Maybe..."

Maybe it wasn't completely his fault.

"I'm not sure this was the right path for us to take," Pippin finally said, confessing what had been in his mind for so long. "Nobody ever questioned that destroying the Ring was the right thing to do, but maybe it's not. There are other ways we could have prevented Sauron getting his hands on the Ring. We could have hidden it back where it had been for so long, then nobody would have it. Nobody would find it for another two thousand odd years. But this... this is just taking lives. That's why they wanted a small group to escort it – to mitigate losses, so that only nine of us would die. They didn't care what happened to us."

"No, precious..." Gollum said, seizing his opportunity. "They're all tricksy... Tricksy and false and liars... They do what's good for them, not anybody else-"

"Pippin?"

Pippin froze at the sound of Legolas' voice.

"What are you doing, talking to _that?_"

Pippin let out a short huff of breath at the derogatory term.

"_He_ has a name, you realise?" he snapped. Truth be told he had very little patience at this point.

"Pippin, what did he say to you?"

"Nothing."

"_Pippin._"

"We were discussing the night's events, that's all." Quite why he was concealing the truth from Legolas about his actions confused him. He no longer cared what the elf thought of him. Boromir was perhaps right about the Eldar – arrogant and selfish.

"Pippin, he can't be trusted!"

Pippin finally faced Legolas. "So _you_ say."

"I know him better than you do. I know what he's _like_. What he's capable of."

"Maybe you were wrong about him."

"Why would I lie?"

"Maybe because you have your own designs on the Ring!" Pippin all but shouted, from fear of waking the others. "And he would stand in the way of you taking the power for yourself! So you tried to get us to doubt him and kill him, so that your path to Frodo would be clear!"

From the look on Legolas' face, Pippin suddenly thought Legolas was going to hit him. And it certainly crossed the elf's mind.

"Go to sleep," Legolas finally said, abruptly and decisively.

"Why?"

"_Just_ go to sleep. I'll finish your watch."

"Why should I do what you say just because you tell me to?"

"Pip-"

"I'M NOT A CHILD!"

Legolas looked alarmed, but when he spoke, it was in a voice of forced calm. "You're not thinking straight. You're absolutely exhausted, it's been a long day, and you should go to sleep. We'll talk about this in the morning."

Pippin would have argued some more, but at that point Frodo stirred briefly, and for a minute he thought he had woken the others. However, Frodo was too absorbed in whatever nightmare he was having to fully wake. But it was enough for Pippin to gather his resolve. With a last blazing look of fury at Legolas, he stormed back to his blanket. It was several minutes before he could force his mind to shut down enough for him to drift into a vague semblance of unconsciousness.

Gollum began to sneak around, praying that the confrontation between Legolas and Pippin would be enough for Legolas to forget he was there, but he was not so lucky. As he crawled back to the rock which had become his makeshift bed, he suddenly found himself slammed into the rock, pinned there by the hand that was uncomfortably tight around his throat.

"I know what your game is," Legolas hissed. "You'd have them all turn against me. But let me assure you that should even the _slightest_ harm come to them by your hand, directly or indirectly, I promise that I will be personally responsible for your demise. Do you understand me?"

* * *

The next day, Legolas completely silent, quietly fuming as they packed up camp. He kept shooting furious glances at Aragorn and Pippin, and the responses were fairly mutual. At one point, Aragorn stood in front of him, looking directly into his eyes, as though expecting an apology for his behaviour of last night, but the ranger was disappointed. Legolas simply raised his eyebrows, before turning to pick up his pack.

The only time he spoke during the day was to briefly whisper three words into Pippin's ear – "I haven't forgotten."

The day passed in utter silence, as the company followed Gollum's lead. They trusted him to lead them to Cirith Ungol, treating him for the first time since his arrival as an equal. Legolas was completely against this new-found trust that Aragorn had, and had it not been for the confrontation of the previous night, he would have made his objections known. However, since he refused to talk to Aragorn until he apologised, and Aragorn refused to talk to Legolas until _he_ apologised, they were locked in a very tense standoff. Yet he was not the only one to feel doubt about this new arrangement.

It was late afternoon, and the sun was setting, when they finally made it to their destination – Minas Morgul.

They were standing in the shadow of a huge fortress that seemed to be carved out of twisted metal and rock. The desolate landscape, combined with the grotesque way the surrounding rocks had been distorted, and topped off by the evil that weighed down the air seemed to give the place the feeling that it was a symbol of defiance against nature.

"Behold! The secret stair!" Gollum whispered to the others, pointing to the back of the fortress.

And, squinting into the darkness, they saw a very thin path that climbed up the cliff-face behind them, that ascended beyond all their sights.

The full reality of the nature of this quest had very suddenly hit them.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"This is it..." Frodo whispered. "On the other side of that... is Mordor."

"Yes, precious, the Black Land is just over that ridge," Gollum said.

"Is there no other way?" Merry asked, staring at the cliff-face apprehensively.

"Gollum was asked to lead the master of the precious into Mordor, so Gollum shows the master of the precious the safest way that he knows."

"Which isn't exactly safe, is it?"

Frodo took his eyes off the stair to glare at Sam, who had made this last remark. "There aren't any safe ways into Mordor," he snapped. "Mordor's a fortress, designed by Sauron so that nobody can get in or out without his knowledge. These borders are so well protected that nobody would be able to get in should Sauron not desire it. Quite why he needs such defences is a mystery. As if anyone would _want_ to enter that Valar-forsaken place. The fear of what lies in it alone is enough of a deterrent."

A tense silence followed this pronouncement, before Frodo continued.

"Shall we press on?" he asked, as casually as asking when the next course of dinner was being served.

Everyone remained still, but Frodo decided to head towards the mountain anyway. Most of the others decided to follow his lead, but Sam remained still. Frodo turned around.

"Sam, come on, you can't stay here," he said softly.

"I really don't think we should go up there..." Sam said, still eyeing the stair with the same level of apprehension that a rabbit might give a wolf.

"W-Why not?"

"Because..." he struggled to put his feelings into words. "Because there's something about this place... something that gives me the feeling that we shouldn't go there."

"Sam, it's... it's Mordor, of course there's a survival instinct that says we shouldn't go there."

Sam looked as though he wanted to cry. "There's something not right about it! I'm not going up there and neither should you, Mister Frodo."

"So what, you want to call off this entire quest because you have a funny feeling, is that right?"

"No, I just think we should find another way in."

"And when you get this funny feeling again, what happens then? Are we going to skirt around the edges of this land until Sauron discovers it, or are we just going to go back to Rivendell and say 'oh, I'm terribly sorry, but we could not complete the quest because Sam got scared when we were trying to enter Mordor'?"

Sam swallowed several times. "I really don't think we should go up there?"

"Why not?"

"Because... Because... Because it's not safe!"

"Sam, this is Mordor," Frodo calmly repeated. "Nowhere is going to be safe there."

"Maybe," Sam took several breaths to collect himself, "maybe there's another way. One that doesn't involve... that. One that doesn't involve..."

"Involve _what?_"

"One that doesn't involve killing us all!" Sam finally shouted. "This whole quest... the price is our lives! We go in there and we are going to die! I don't know about you, but I don't think that's a price I'm willing to pay."

"I thought you knew what you signed up for..." Frodo said, looking hurt. In that moment, their worlds didn't contain the Fellowship, or the stair, or anything else. It contained them alone, as they finally stopped denying what they feared.

"I'm not talking about me, Mister Frodo. I don't matter. Of course I knew that there was a strong chance that we would both die. But I never really believed it, if you get my meaning. I thought that maybe we'd be lucky, like Mister Bilbo. He was lucky on his adventures – he came home at the end, even though there were so many times that he thought he wouldn't. But... But maybe we won't get to see home again."

Something flashed in Frodo's eyes, whether anger or pity Sam could not tell.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I... I don't think that we are going to see home again. But even so, I need to finish this. I need to get rid of this thing. Not for Middle Earth, but for myself. If this thing isn't destroyed, it will haunt me for the rest of my life. And so the only way I can do it is by throwing it into the fire in Mordor."

"But it's going to destroy you!" Sam all but wailed.

"Nonetheless that is where my path lies!" Frodo finally lost his temper. "Whether you tread it too or not is up to you, but I'm going up there. And I will destroy this Ring!"

* * *

Quite where he found the strength to keep putting one hand over the other as he began to mount the stair was a mystery to him, but his determination had kept him going. Sam had not said all in his argument with Frodo earlier, but he had kept secret his distrust of Gollum. He had initially felt that he would not need to take such drastic action. Now... Now he was scared. He was afraid of what would happen if he spoke up – Aragorn and Legolas had practically been brothers beforehand, but Legolas' hatred of Gollum had drove a wedge between them so they could barely stand to be in each other's presence anymore, and he didn't want that to happen to him and Frodo. But he was equally afraid of what would happen if he didn't speak his mind. The others may have forgotten the tales Bilbo had told him by the fireside when he was a child, but he could not so readily disregard the descriptions of the wily creature who looked more than capable of murder. They were playing right into Gollum's hands, and he did not want to be in a situation where he was as helpless as Bilbo lost in the tunnels beneath the Misty Mountains.

Sam scrambled over the last step onto what could only be described as a platform with roughly the same level of grace as a three-legged oliphaunt, completely ignoring the others as they started passing around broken fragments of _lembas_. He took the wafer as it was passed to him, eating it without looking up. He knew that the rest of the Fellowship now thought him a coward. He didn't care, though. He hadn't joined because his greatest asset was courage. He was loyal, and he wasn't just going to let Gollum get his hands on Frodo because, as Frodo put it, he 'had a funny feeling.'

"We've climbed the first stair, yess..." Gollum said, in answer to Pippin's dubious look up the cliff-face. "We've got one more to do."

"What, so this is the only rest we're going to get until we reach the top?" Sam groaned unthinkingly.

Merry laughed. "You've been climbing for less than an hour and you're _already_ moaning?"

"You're not the one carrying all the cooking gear on your back," Sam grumbled.

"I guess this proves it then."

"Proves what?"

"That you eat too much."

The three other hobbits laughed at Sam's expense much harder than the joke merited, as it was the only vaguely happy moment they had experienced since they had been captured by Faramir, and it even drew a smile from Legolas, who had been scowling so much recently that if the others hadn't known better, they'd have said it was permanently etched on his face. Aragorn, however, got up and looked over the side of the platform, looking concerned.

"Strider, what's up?"

Aragorn continued to look over the side for a second longer before straightening up with his brow furrowed.

"Nothing... I just got the strangest feeling that we were being followed..."

"Having Sam's funny feelings too, are you?" Frodo laughed, unable to resist. What remained of the Fellowship broke out into laughter, and for a minute they forgot where they were, and what they were doing. All too soon, however, the moment ended as Legolas cast his eyes upwards.

"So what's up there?"

"All sorts of nasssty things..." Gollum said. "Orcses and filth and-"

"And?" Sam pressed.

"And evil, wicked things... But Gollum was asked to show them the safest way into Mordor, so Gollum shows them the secret stair."

"What kind of wicked things?" Legolas asked, only reining in his temper out of a desire not to cause another argument.

A flash of an evil smirk flitted across Gollum's face before he spoke again. "You shall soon see, precious... You will see..."

There was a pause, before Aragorn spoke again, looking up at the darkening sky.

"We should keep moving."

* * *

Gollum kept getting some way ahead of them, and on more occasions than he cared to admit, Aragorn had to ask him to stop while he and the others caught up.

"How... much longer... does this... cliff... go up?" Merry grunted behind him.

"Not far now... Not far now..." Gollum hissed, with something in his voice that Aragorn could not quite recognise. "Just a little bit further..."

Pippin glanced down behind him, and, noticing just how high he was, wished that he hadn't. The fortress looked like the size of a coin, and the mountains that surrounded it were like small mole hills.

Suddenly, the floor around Aragorn seemed less steep, as he hauled himself up over the last rock. Though he would never have admitted it, he was relieved to reach the top and not need to find the strength to climb that wretched cliff anymore.

"We have found it!" Gollum whispered. "We have found the tunnel!"

As the rest of the Fellowship clambered onto the top of the cliff, they all stared into the cavern. It was impossibly dark, darker even than the tunnels of the Misty Mountains, than the pits of Khazad-dûm, than night itself, it seemed. And it seemed as though something was hiding into the darkness, waiting for them...

"So this is the pass of Cirith Ungol," Aragorn breathed.

"The legends weren't exaggerating," Legolas said, the loss of the sarcastic tone betraying his fear. "Cirith Ungol, the place where no servant of the light has returned from."

"I'm not sure I want to go by this road..." Frodo whispered, so quietly that he barely heard himself.

As they stood there, pondering the entrance, the sky suddenly lit up behind them. They spun around in alarm as thunder echoed over them. A huge stream of light had shot straight up through the clouds, issuing from the fortress far below. The thunder died down, only to be replaced with a sound they loathed. Far below, they could hear the war cries of thousands upon thousands of orcs below them, as they marched from Minas Morgul.

Suddenly, the cries were drowned with a scream – a scream so cold and piercing that it felt as though it was cutting through them all. But none felt it more so than Frodo. He clutched at the wound to his chest, feeling the cold knife drive its way through his flesh once more. It was the Witch-King of Angmar, leading Mordor's armies into battle.

"So this is it..." Merry said. "The war has started..."

"The war started long before we got here."

Frodo straightened up as the screams died down, and as he did so, he gathered his resolve. "Then let us not delay its end any longer."

* * *

**A/N: So... Stuff's going down next chapter... Ah, they were slightly happy for a very short period of time... Isn't it hateful...**

**So anyway, moving away from my sadism, please review and let me know what you think!**


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